Surviving Claudia
by ciaofay
Summary: Claudia Watson- John's sister- is a shell of the woman she used to be. Her boyfriend cheated on her, and is not happy that she's gone. Consequently, she moves to London, and into 221B Baker Street with her brother and the curly haired man he lives with. At first, she can't stand him. But the more time she spends with him, the more she finds herself falling in love... Sherlock/OC.
1. The Meeting

An arrival at 221B Baker Street was not an unusual occurrence, but Sherlock found it best to turn the majority of guests away. The only people Sherlock was interested in were people with a mystery to solve- and a mystery that required a great mind like his. He had no interest in cases that could be solved by a five year old child.

He could not turn down his most recent guest, however, because she was John's family. A member of John's family that Sherlock himself hadn't known about until she'd texted John the previous week and told him that she'd be staying in London for a few months. Of course, John had invited her to stay at the flat.

"_She's twenty three. She's not exactly going to cause any trouble."_ John had insisted.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and plucked absently at his violin strings, staring at John's little sister sat in front of him.

"So." Sherlock said, causing the girl to jump. He didn't say anything else, and the girl frowned.

"So what?" She asked.

"I don't talk unless really necessary. I hope that doesn't bother you. Although, if it does, it's hardly going to change things." Sherlock shrugged, putting his violin down and sitting forwards, placing his chin in his hands.

"Right. Sorry, but who are you?" She asked.

"I could say the same about you. John has refused to tell me anything. I think he wants me to impress you with my mind." Sherlock shrugged impatiently, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, already having made all deductions one could possibly make.

"Go on then. Impress me." The girl challenged.

"Your name is Claudia. You are studying History at university, although you'd quite like to get into music journalism. You've recently split up from a short term relationship, and are quite bitter about the whole ordeal. You're excited about seeing John, but also worried about whether his condition has improved since coming back to England after being in the war. And rightly so. But I can assure you, Claudia Watson, John is absolutely fine." Sherlock told her, not once opening his eyes to look at her.

Claudia frowned at him, her mouth open but not in shock. "How could you possibly know that if John hasn't told you anything about me?" She asked.

Sherlock cracked one eye open and took in her appearance.

"I know you're studying History because of the text book in your handbag. It's a university text book, and is about modern European History. I know you'd like to be a music journalist because of the scribbles on your hand about various bands. It's things that a music journalist would write. Ergo, you're a history student who'd also like to get into music journalism. Pointless professions, but you're intelligent nonetheless." Sherlock explained.

"I'm not sure whether that was an insult or a compliment." Claudia muttered, rolling her eyes. "How did you know about my ex-boyfriend?" She asked.

"You keep furiously texting, and when I you first came into the house you were talking on your phone about a 'bastard' who'd 'cheated on you with a munter.' Not the most impressive language but that doesn't faze me." Sherlock shrugged.

Claudia sighed. "John's told you all of this." She nodded.

"I haven't told him anything." John said, walking into the flat and smiling at his sister. Claudia grinned at him and got up to meet him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"John!" She laughed, relieved that he'd walked in when he had.

"Claudia." John smiled. "You look so different." He told her, holding her back so he could have a better look at her.

"Thanks?" She smirked, yet again not knowing whether to take it as a compliment or insult.

"I don't mean it in a bad way- you look good. Doesn't she, Sherlock?" John asked, turning to his friend for help. Sherlock nodded in a vague way.

"I suppose." He agreed, getting back to his violin plucking.

"Great." Claudia said sarcastically, leaving her brother's embrace and sitting back down on the couch. John joined her, easing himself down into the seat.

"Was he deducing you?" John smirked, glancing first at Claudia and then at Sherlock.

"Is that what you call it? 'Deducing.' I call it bloody creepy." Claudia muttered. Sherlock glanced up at them both, setting his violin down once more as he tried not to look offended.

"I could take offence to that." He said in a deep voice, glaring at the girl.

"He's very delicate when it comes to his intellect." John whispered to Claudia, who shrugged indifferently. Sherlock turned his attention to John, who'd stated that she wouldn't be any trouble. He didn't like her already. She'd been in his flat for twenty minutes, and she's already caused trouble.

John couldn't put up with the silence any longer, and so decided to ignore Sherlock completely.

"So, how are things?" He asked Claudia.

"Well, apart from being cheated on, having our parent's think I'm a disappointment and having to put up with Harry, its swell." She smiled sarcastically.

"Harry's your other sister, John." Sherlock said deeply.

"Yes, thanks, Sherlock." John rolled his eyes. "I didn't know that."

Sherlock frowned and turned his attention back to his violin. John swore he heard him mutter- "Tetchy…"

"What have Mum and Dad been doing?" John asked her.

"They don't think History's the right path for me." She sighed.

"But you've always loved History." John refuted. "Don't listen to them. They're the same with me. And Harry. They weren't happy when I was in the army, and they're not happy now I'm out." John assured her. "And the less said about Matt, the better." John told her, and she nodded in agreement.

"Who's Matt?" Sherlock asked. John looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"You don't know?" He asked. "I'd have thought you'd have worked that out by now."

"Ah, of course. The ex-boyfriend." Sherlock nodded. "How foolish of me to forget that."

"Why do you talk like you're from the 19th Century?" Claudia smirked, and John grinned into his hand.

"It's called intelligence, Miss Watson." Sherlock told her, before abruptly standing up and putting his scarf and coat on. He left without a word.

"Is he all right?" Claudia asked.

"Is Sherlock all right?" John seemed to ask himself. "You never can tell with him." He sighed.

"Where will I be sleeping, John? So I can put my bags there." Claudia smiled. John took them and carried them into his bedroom.

"You can take my bedroom. I've cleaned the sheets, don't worry." He smirked at her, and he could hear her laugh all the way into his bedroom.

"Where will you sleep?" She was suddenly in his bedroom too.

"On the couch." John smiled, leading her back into the living room. "Do you want some tea? One minute. Mrs Hudson!" John yelled. Claudia frowned as she heard someone walking up the stairs.

"You've got a maid?" She asked.

"No. Mrs Hudson. Our landlady. Did she not show you into the flat?" John asked, confused. Sherlock would never do such a thing.

"No. The tall man did. What's his name? Sherlock? How unusual." Claudia noted, right as Mrs Hudson, dressed in her usual purple, walked into the room and smiled expectantly.

"Oh, hello dear. You must be John's little sister. I'm Mrs Hudson, you're landlady." She said.

"I'm Claudia. Nice to meet you." Claudia grinned, shaking her hand.

"What do you want, John?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Would you please be able to make us some tea?" John asked kindly.

"I'll do it this once, because your sister's here." Mrs Hudson tutted, walking into their messy kitchen, strewn with various boiling tubes and body parts. "But I'm not your housekeeper!" She exclaimed from the room.

"She always says that, but she doesn't mean it." John whispered to Claudia, who smirked at his triumph.

"Oh, John! Will you please tell Sherlock to stop leaving body parts in the fridge! Especially when you expect me to make cups of tea for you both all the time!" Mrs Hudson yelled, clearly disgusted.

"Body parts?!" Claudia exclaimed, leaping from her seat and running into the kitchen.

From his seat, John frowned and winced. He really hadn't wanted Claudia to know about Sherlock's oddness until she knew him better. What will she think of John's housemate now?

It's not that John wanted them to be _best friends_, but she didn't want to just think of him as odd, like everyone else did. There was much more to him than that, and John wanted her to see the funny, and the kind side to Sherlock Holmes. Not the side of him that leaves body parts in the fridge and keeps eyeballs in microwaves.

"John! There's a human brain in the fridge! Why the hell is that there?!" Claudia yelled. John rushed into the kitchen and groaned at the sight. He grabbed the milk and slammed the fridge shut.

"Sherlock experiments a lot." He said weakly, handing the milk to Mrs Hudson, who looked terrified, despite having seen it all a million times over.

"We really need to get separate fridges." John frowned.

"Why does he experiment with body parts? I'm really hoping he didn't kill someone to get that brain." Claudia snapped, feeling nauseous.

"He's a consulting detective." John said as an explanation, and a weak one, at that. "He solves crime. He's into science." He continued with his weak explanation.

Claudia put her hands in the air, as if giving up, and stormed into the living room.

"So I'm going to be under the same roof as a man who thinks it acceptable to keep body parts in the fridge. Do you not see how disgusting that is, John?" Claudia asked.

"Yes. But I've lived with him for a long time now. I've gotten used to it. Sherlock is…Sherlock. He's weird and quiet and intelligent and bloody brilliant." John stuck up for his friend.

"I didn't know you had such strong feelings for me, John." Sherlock spoke up from the doorway, pulling his coat and scarf up and hanging them on the clothes hooks.

"Where've you been so quickly?" John asked.

"Mycroft was outside, had been for about an hour. In case you didn't know, he wanted to whisk your sister away and reason with her. I had to tell him to go away." Sherlock explained.

"You told Mycroft to 'go away'?" John asked, amused.

"It was something among those lines, yes." Sherlock said, going to the window to check that his brother had indeed, gone away.

"Well what did you actually say?" John asked, enjoying this.

"Piss off." Sherlock said, turning around. John smirked, and Claudia was glaring at the dark haired man. "What?" He asked when he saw her stare.

"There's a brain in the fridge." She said.

"Oh, yes. I was supposed to get rid of that a couple of weeks ago. Ha. It will be a breeding ground for bacteria now." Sherlock said.

Claudia looked down at her cup of tea with a sour expression. She suddenly handed the cup to John and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't think she likes the thought of drinking tea with milk that has brain bacteria in it." John sighed, going to the kitchen and tipping it down the sink.

"Could you not try to get along with her, for me? She's my sister and she means a lot to me. Could you not just try to be nice?" John asked, impatient.

"Yes, John, because I put that brain in the fridge on purpose." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't put it past you." John snapped, going to the bathroom and knocking on the door. "Are you okay, Claudia?" He asked gently. Claudia opened the door, and marched out, glaring at Sherlock as she took her seat.

"Fine." She lied.

"I think you're going to like living here." Mrs Hudson smiled, worried, as she moved past the small group and down the stairs.


	2. The Broken Heel

John Watson, being the kind older brother he was, decided to take Claudia out for dinner that night. This was so that she wouldn't have to be worried about what might have happened to her food before she ate it. The whole brain bacteria had made her very queasy, and she'd resorted to buying a mini fridge for her short time in London.

"When will you be back?" Sherlock asked John, obviously wanting to go with them both.

"I don't know, Sherlock." John sighed, helping his sister into her coat before putting his own on. Claudia looked at Sherlock, before sighing. He looked helpless without John.

"You can come." She sighed. Sherlock visibly changed, his helpless look turning to his normal, blank look.

"He was acting." John whispered to Claudia. "He does that." Claudia rolled her eyes, and passed Sherlock his scarf and coat, which he put on quickly before taking his phone out and typing furiously on the keypad.

John raised his eyebrows at Claudia, before opening the door for her and leading them all to the nearest black cab. They climbed in and Sherlock told the driver where to go.

"Apparently, we're going to an Italian. I hope you don't mind, Claudia." John sighed, knowing that Sherlock had just chosen _for_ them anyway.

"Italian sounds fine." Claudia assured him, smiling.

"Why do you really want to join us, Sherlock?" John asked, knowing he'd have an ulterior motive of some sort.

"There's a murdered wandering the streets of London. He's cheating on his wife with a woman who clearly likes Italian, because this restaurant is the only restaurant he takes her too. I've been going there every night for a week. I'm hoping tonight, he'll be there." Sherlock explained.

"What's going on? Why are you talking about murderers?" Claudia asked, concerned.

"I'm a consulting detective, Miss Watson, which requires me to arrest murders sometimes. But some of them can be clever, and you have to hack into their bank records to find out where they've been eating." Sherlock told her.

"So, you're a stalker." Claudia said simply.

"No. I'm doing my job." Sherlock refuted.

"By stalking murderers. You hack into their bank accounts, so that you can meet them at restaurants."

"It does sound like you're a bit of a stalker, Sherlock." John smirked. "This is going on my blog."

"Shut up." Sherlock sulked, looking out of the window and glaring at his phone. "All the waiters are terrified. I've told them to text me if they see him. One lady quit her job. This man's causing quite a lot of trouble." Sherlock mused.

"I'd say so- he did kill someone." John joked.

"Hold on. How can you take the fact that we're going after a murderer so easily?" Claudia asked, horrified at her brother's nonchalant attitude.

"I've done this a lot now, Claude. Hunting murderers, nearly being killed, arresting nasty people." John shrugged. "I guess I've got used to this life."

"I don't think I could." Claudia shrugged. "I just can't believe we're going after a murderer." She mused to herself, and Sherlock rolled his eyes, thinking her weak.

"Feel free to go home, if you don't like it, Miss Watson." He said. He didn't like weak women.

"Hey! This dinner date was originally between my brother and I, you invited yourself! If you don't like _me_, feel free to go home." She snapped. Sherlock had to stop himself from smiling. Maybe she wasn't so weak, after all.

"That's enough." John raised his voice. "Sherlock, you can sit on a separate table. Claudia and I have a lot to talk about." He said seriously.

"What about? Why she's really in London?" Sherlock asked. Claudia bit her lip. She didn't want to talk about why she was _really_ in London with the crazy consulting detective. Only her brother and sister knew.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed. "It's really none of your business."

"Right." Sherlock shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. Claudia looked out of the window, suddenly brooding.

"Why are you acting so strange?" John whispered to Sherlock.

"I didn't realise I was being." Sherlock replied, feigning innocence. John rolled his eyes and ignored him.

Everything was silent for a minute.

"Driver! I want you to speed to the restaurant! I will pay for any and all fines if you can get us there in one minute!" Sherlock suddenly exclaimed.

The driver obviously put his foot down, because they were speeding down the busy street, dodging cars and vehicles. Even people.

"What's going on?" Claudia asked.

"He's getting away. Some waitress told him we were coming and he's made a run for it." Sherlock muttered, getting ready to jump from the cab.

"So much for a peaceful night. Get ready to run, Claudia." John sighed. Claudia's eyes widened and she clutched her bag closer to her chest.

"I'm not sure these shoes are designed to run in." She said feebly, looking at her high heels with desperate longing.

"You stay in the cab then, and face the possibility of him killing you- without mine or John's protection." Sherlock snapped. The thought of Sherlock protecting her made Claudia feel slightly warmer inside; only she didn't quite know why.

"Fine." She groaned, kicking her heels off and putting them in her bag.

"Now that's just going to hurt your feet." Sherlock told her, and Claudia glared at him. Suddenly, Sherlock had thrown a vast amount of money at the driver and had leapt from the cab, followed quickly by John. Claudia hadn't known it was coming, and so when she jumped from the cab, she was about ten strides behind the men.

"Wait!" She yelled, but neither heard her.

"I can see him!" Sherlock yelled, chasing vigorously behind the man.

"Why do I have to run too?!" Claudia yelled. "He's going that way!" She then cried.

"Fair enough! Stay there then!" John yelled to her, not stopping running. Claudia stopped, gasping for breath. She groaned and sat on the curb, strapping her pounding feet back into her shoes. When she stood up, she winced uncomfortably.

She heard a loud thud in the distance, and her heart stopped. Had something happened to her brother?

She looked desperately around for a faster way of reaching them both, but she found none. She groaned and set off running again, hobbling along in her heels.

She could hear both the detectives mumbling to each other in the distance, so she knew John was safe.

As she reached a cross road, she looked carefully into the alley on her right before crossing. What she didn't see however, was the man lurking behind some bins.

"Careful love; you might get killed!" He exclaimed in a thick cockney accent, sprinting at her and knocking her over onto the ground with full force. "Thought I recognised you, you got out the cab with those imbeciles too." He muttered, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. When she did, she was breathing heavily. She took in his appearance. No hair. Big, crooked nose. Slit in his right eyebrow. Could that information be useful to Sherlock? Well, if she got out of this alive, that is.

"If you don't let go of me right now, I will scream bloody murder." Claudia promised, and the man grinned.

"I'd like to see you try." He smirked. Claudia's eyes widened with disgust and terror as she felt his meaty hand crawl up her thigh.

"I'd get off her if I were you." A deep, velvety voice said. Claudia looked up to find a tall man with curly hair towering over her.

The man stopped feeling her legs and let her go, obviously scared. Why would he be scared of Sherlock? And then she saw it. He had a gun in his right hand.

"All right, all right." The man said, his hands reluctantly rising into the air. "You got me." He said.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked Claudia, glancing down at her.

"My heel broke." She said weakly. Sherlock smirked and bent down to pick her up, all the time with his gun pointing at the nasty bald man.

"I think a broken heel is the least of our troubles." He told her, his hand clutching hers, worried she'd keel over if he let her go.

"Right. Yeah. Quite right." She mumbled. "What do we do now?" She asked. Sherlock answered her question by raising the gun into the air and shooting ten times.

"What was that for?" Claudia winced, her ear drums nearly bursting.

"An easier way of calling the police." Sherlock shrugged, not once taking his eye from the murderer, who had stood up and was glaring at the two of them.

"He's going to kill me." The man muttered, shaken by something.

"Who's going to kill you?" Sherlock demanded, worried that he'd say _Moriarty, _the name he'd heard so many times before. The man ignored him. Maybe it was Moriarty.

"Do you mean this was a trap?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course it was a trap! The whole thing- set up. I murdered someone yes, but I was paid a lot of money for it." The man grumbled.

"Thanks. That can be told to the police when they eventually get here." Sherlock informed him.

"Where's John?" Claudia asked.

"We took separate routes. He should have heard the shots, and he should be following the sound to us." Sherlock replied coolly.

"Thanks. For… Saving me." Claudia said, embarrassed. Not only was she embarrassed that she'd let a man so easily defeat her, but Sherlock had seen another man have his hand on her thigh. The thought went through her. She wasn't any angel, but she had a feeling that Sherlock didn't respect women who flaunted what they had. Not that she was flaunting anything- he attacked her. Claudia still felt cheap, however.

"Don't worry about it. And we'll try to save your heel later." Sherlock promised, and Claudia grinned to the ground.

"What's happened?" Someone panted behind them. They turned to find John, red faced and out of breath, staring at the three of them.

"This repulsive man was trying to kill me." Claudia told him simply, leaving Sherlock's warm hand for the comfort of her brother.

"I'm guessing Sherlock shot the air for the police to come." John muttered.

"Of course." Sherlock replied.

"Can you sort everything out or do you need us?" John asked.

"No. You go and eat. I'll tell them everything." Sherlock sighed, his gun still aimed at the man. "Have a nice night." He told them both. John smiled and began walking. When he saw Claudia hobbling he thought she'd broken her leg.

"Why are you walking funny?" He asked her.

"I broke my heel." She frowned.

John giggled in a girly manner, and Claudia grinned. "It's not funny! These were expensive!" She insisted.

"We'd best go home and get something to eat there." John laughed. "I don't think the world's ready to see Claudia Watson in a broken heel."

Sat in 221B Baker Street, John and Claudia sipped their wine (that had been in the mini fridge) while they waited for their take away.

"So, are you ready to tell me why you're here?" John asked gently.

"John, you know why I'm here." Claudia sighed.

"Tell me about it though." John urged.

"Matt cheated on me. One night, I came home early. I'd bought his favourite meal, and a new film for us to watch, and thought I'd treat him. I walked in, all happy. Walked into the kitchen and noticed wine glasses. One had bright red lipstick printed on the rim. And I knew. I knew he'd cheated on me. I burst into the bedroom and he was shagging my best friend." Claudia said, eyes watering with fresh tears. "And he didn't even say sorry! He was just really mad! Started trashing the bedroom, shouted at me, shouted at Melissa. He told me he'd been cheating on me for a year. With five different girls." She cried, covering her mouth with her hand as she sobbed.

"Oh, Claude." John groaned, hugging his little sister. "Everything will be all right." He promised. "You did the right thing in getting away from him."

"I know. I'm just glad I took that gap year." Claudia then cried. "Or I'd have to see him in class!"

"He took modern European History too?" John asked, having never met the man. Claudia nodded.

"Imagine." She whispered. "Imagine if I had to see him everyday. The names he called me- just for walking in on him cheating on me!" Claudia exclaimed. John shook his head in disbelief.

"Tosser." He muttered.

"That was one of the names he called me, yes." Claudia nodded.

"No… I was calling him a tosser." John said after pausing, worried he'd offended her. He relaxed when he felt her giggle.

"He's started texting me everyday." Claudia said. She was about to take her phone out and show him when someone knocked on the front door downstairs. John got up and went downstairs.

Claudia looked through her messages so she could show them to her brother straight away. She'd received one in the past five minutes, however. She opened it.

'Hope your heels are okay. –SH'

She frowned. How had he gotten her number? She shrugged, smiling, knowing he'd have been straight faced when sending that text.

When John re-entered the flat, this time carrying their food, he frowned at her smile.

"What's got you so happy?" He asked.

"Nothing. Just glad to be here." She grinned, kicking her legs out in front of her as she told the truth.

"Well. I'm glad to hear it." John grinned. It was nice to see her so carefree for once.

Her long wavy light brown hair looked messy, tangling down her back as she relaxed. Her bare, doe eyes stared at the floor while she pursed her naturally cherry coloured lips.

John handed her the food and sat down on the other couch.

"The last text he sent me was that I should be careful in London." Claudia told her brother quietly. "It's freaked me out. I hadn't told anyone except you that I was going to London. It's like he's stalking me." She confided.

"He very well could be." John told her, having spent too much time with Sherlock. "But I doubt it. He obviously knew that I lived her, and the only place you could get away from life up there was to come to London." He shrugged. Again- he'd spent too much time with Sherlock, thinking everyone thought like that.

"Yeah." Claudia nodded, not convinced. "I'm just worried he's going to do something… To me... Or himself. He's clearly unstable or something." She shrugged, biting into her pizza. "He trashed a whole entire bedroom." She reasoned. John smiled at her innocence. If trashing a room made you unstable, then what did that make Sherlock? Sherlock, who shot bullets into walls when he was bored. Who wore more nicotine patches the more complex a case. Who dissected humans to perform experiments?

Well, a high functioning sociopath, obviously- he'd said that enough times.


	3. Surviving Sherlock

That night, Claudia kept having flash backs to the incident with the apparent murderer. The murderer who'd had his awful hand crawling up her thigh. As she and John watched mundane TV, the thought continuously made her squirm. The more she thought about it, the more it disgusted her. A murderer. A man who'd actually killed someone.

Then again, as she glanced to her left at her brother- had he killed anyone?

And that led her onto Sherlock. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd killed someone. Not necessarily murdered them, but potentially been the cause of their death. He carried a gun, he'd been prepared to shoot the man. And the way he glanced at people. A hard, cold stare. A murderer's stare?

The night had taken it's toll on her. The more she thought about what had transpired just hours before, the more uneasy she felt in the flat. As if she was being watched. It itched her skin and made her want to leave.

She convinced herself that she was just nervous about Matt, that she was worried because he knew where she was when she hadn't told anyone. How could he have known that?

She was tired, her eyelids were dropping, and she was slowly going to sleep with rancid thoughts flashing through her mind.

A loud bang woke her from her slumber. Her eyes shot open, and she found herself in shrouded darkness. She sat up, and pushed a blanket off from her body. She was on John's sofa. She relaxed. She'd obviously fallen asleep, John had gone to bed and decided not to disturb her. She looked to the door, which had been the cause of the bang.

Sherlock was stood in the doorway, looking conflicted.

"What?" She asked quietly, her voice breaking through the darkness and silence like a knife.

"Nothing." Holmes replied in his usual velvet smooth voice. His voice didn't break the silence like hers did, it simply slithered through and rested in the air.

Sherlock then moved through the dim room of the night, agile and lithe, until he reached his bedroom, where he slowly and quietly opened the door. He shut it gently behind him.

Claudia frowned and rested her head back on the arm of the couch. What an odd man, she thought.

The way he was stood in the doorway, tall and looming. The murderer. She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to escape the images. Sleep could take her away from her thoughts.

"I'm having trouble sleeping." She told John over breakfast the next morning. "As in I really couldn't sleep last night." She confided.

"I was going to wake you so you could go in my bed like I said, but you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you. You'll sleep better tonight, in a proper bed." John smiled, sipping his tea as he checked his blog.

Sherlock had also joined them for breakfast, although for him it was just a snack, as he hadn't slept and so hadn't distinguished the difference between night and morning yet.

"Maybe it was your traumatic experience that kept you awake." Sherlock suggested knowingly, not looking at anyone.

"That's true." John nodded, turning back to his sister with an apologetic smile. "We'll have a nicer day today. I'll make it extra special to make up for last night." He promised.

"Last night wasn't so bad. It was just tiring." Claudia insisted, not wanting her brother to feel bad. Really, it was Sherlock who should be making it up to her.

John then stood up to take his breakfast things into the kitchen. Sherlock glanced coldly at Claudia, it was a calculating glance, which seemed to be the only glance Claudia had received from Sherlock.

"How did you get my number? To text me about my broken heel?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, so that's what's bothering you. John gave it to me, in case of emergencies. Although why I'd contact you in an emergency, I don't know." Sherlock shrugged, leafing through a newspaper without reading anything. "I'm assuming he simply wanted us to be friends." He claimed, not once looking up to gauge Claudia's reaction.

"Friends doesn't seem possible with you, Sherlock." Claudia told him, and he didn't reply. John returned back into the room, having heard everything that they'd said. He frowned at Sherlock.

"I'm going to get dressed." Claudia said, going into John's room to get clothes, and then to the bathroom.

"I don't know what your problem is." John hissed.

"There is no problem!" Sherlock exclaimed, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

"I've asked you numerous times now to just try to be friendly. You can't even do that." John complained.

"I've tried." Sherlock shoved his newspaper on the couch. "I texted her last night, to make sure she was OK, she was the one who didn't text back. Not that I care, of course." Sherlock said, picking the newspaper back up, only to open it to a random page and begin flicking through again. John raised his eyebrows.

"Well, you seem bothered." He said simply.

"I'm not, John. You're mistaking my 'Utterly Not Bothered' face for my bothered face again." Sherlock said dryly. John huffed and snatched the newspaper from his friend. Said friend then looked up, looking surprised and hurt.

"I was reading that." He snapped.

"No you weren't. You were leafing through it." John said. Sherlock glared at John before getting his Blackberry out and typing furiously.

"You can't blame her for not texting back." John said quietly. "She's going through a lot right now, and last night may not have helped. If it's stopping her from sleeping, I think she's scared of something." John said, worried.

"Quite right." Sherlock muttered, not really listening, as he texted someone.

"I don't know why I bother talking to you." John huffed once more, getting up from the couch and walking into his bedroom. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and looked at the door which John had just slammed.

He shook his head and went back to his phone.

John and Claudia were having a perfect day. London, during the day, without work and without Sherlock could be quite relaxing. They shopped, they talked, they laughed and then they found themselves in a coffee shop.

Claudia took a seat as John went to order for them. She pulled her phone out to find she had a text from a certain Mr Holmes.

"_Sorry if last night scared you. -SH." _

Claudia shook her head, pressed the 'quit' button and slid her phone back into her pocket. He wasn't sorry at all.

When John came to the table carrying their drinks, he sat down with a smile at his sister.

"Sherlock's texted you, hasn't he?" John asked.

"How do you know?" Claudia asked.

"I saw you get your phone, look annoyed, and put it back without answering. My guess is that it's Sherlock. I've picked up a few things by spending time with him, you know." John stated, smirking. "Your friend being a the worlds only consulting detective can do that to you."

"I don't think I could survive in your world." Claudia sighed.

"I don't think Sherlock can survive you." John told her, looking at his drink.

_'Don't worry about it.'_ Came the reply to Sherlock's text. He glanced at it and put his phone back on the table without even a change in expression. At least she had fully functioning fingers to reply, he thought, he'd had the feeling that her fingers had fallen off considering her lack of replies.

The thing was, Sherlock wasn't really truly sorry at all. What did a bit of adventure do to hurt anyone? And he'd saved the day, hadn't he? He'd stopped him from... Raping her. He closed his eyes. Maybe she was traumatised. His fingers were clasped together, with his chin leaning on them as he sat in his usual seat.

Without opening his eyes, he grabbed a patch from the coffee table, rolled his shirt sleeves up and slapped one onto his arm (which already had two stuck on his skin.)

Who had employed the man last night to murder? Who had paid him? Who was it? Maybe Moriarty. He'd heard the name often enough. Maybe it wasn't even a name, perhaps it was a company name. But Sherlock had a feeling it wasn't him anyway.

He thought he knew exactly who it was.


	4. The Coffee Conundrum

"Someone once told me that in order to face my fears, you have to be proactive with them." Claudia said, as she and John marched down a London high street.

"So what do you intend to do to be proactive?" John questioned, amused, a small smile on his face.

"I don't know. Get a job or something." She shrugged.

"That's not facing a fear, is it?" John grinned to himself, knowing what she was trying to say and also knowing that she was doing a shoddy job of explaining herself.

"I mean, I need to be proactive and stop dwelling about what's happened with Matt, and then what happened last night." She explained, rolling her eyes at her bemused brother.

"Well, what do you want to do? What job do you want?" John asked her.

"I don't know. Just something to do until I get over myself and go back to university." She shrugged, squinting at the blaring sun.

"I think I know the man who can help." John told his sister, before glancing up at a security camera and smiling.

"You want my brother to give her a job?" Sherlock demanded, eyebrows raised as he feigned nonchalance. "And why do you want that to happen?" He then asked.

"She wants a job where she doesn't really have to do anything, but that will take her mind away from her life. You can twist Mycroft around your little finger if you promise him information about your life, and so I want you to get her a job with him. Personal Assistant, or something like that." John shrugged as he sat opposite his friend.

"And what's your ulterior motive?" Sherlock smirked. John sighed.

"I want her to get an insight on our lives, so she doesn't think you're a freak." He explained.

"So you want my brother to give her a job in the government, so that she can see how he stalks us?" Sherlock asked.

"Precisely." Came the reply.

"I'll get him onto it." He promised, something he wouldn't have done before John turned him into someone slightly more human than before.

"And what's your ulterior motive for helping me? You don't usually do things like this." John frowned.

"I'm trying to be nice to her, like you told me to be." He shrugged, standing up from his seat and stalking into the kitchen.

_13:06 'I need you to get John's sister a job. Personal assistant or something else as equally useless. -SH'_

_13:09 'Absolutely not. -MH'_

_13:11 'I'll let you spy on me. -SH'_

_13:11 'Oh Sherly, I already do. -MH'_

_13:12 'I'll pretend not to know.-SH'_

_13:13 'Why are you doing this? -MH'_

_13:48 'Sherlock? -MH'_

_13:50 'I honestly do not know. -SH'_

_14:07 'Fine. She can be my Personal Assistant. I'll call her in ten. -MH'_

_14:08 'Wonderful. -SH'_

"Really?" John heard Claudia asked as she talked on the phone in his bedroom.

"Looks like Mycroft's given her the job." John smiled. "Thanks, Sherlock." He said quietly. Sherlock nodded an acknowledgement, and went back to his work.

Claudia burst through into the living room with a beam on her face. "I got a job!" She exclaimed. "A Personal Assistant." She smiled. Her face then turned quite dark. "But you'd already know that, wouldn't you?" She asked Sherlock. He looked up at her innocently.

"What?" He asked.

"You organised it. Do you know how creepy that seems? Getting me a job with your brother?" She demanded.

"It's not like that, Claude. I asked him to get it you." John intersected before Sherlock had time to open his mouth.

"So I get shouted at when I try and stay out of her way, and I get shouted at when I try to help her. Thank God her trait of being annoying doesn't run through the family, or I don't think you'd still be living here, John." Sherlock snapped, putting his coat and scarf on before leaving.

"That wasn't good of you." John sighed.

"It's not my fault he reacts like a teenager." Claudia sighed, sitting next to her brother. "Thanks for helping me." She told him.

"It's not me you should be thanking." John told her. She nodded, sighing before standing up and putting her parka on.

"I hate you." She told her brother, before leaving the flat. She ran down the street, where Sherlock was marching away.

"Sherlock!" She yelled. He stopped and turned around, waiting for her to catch up.

"What?" He asked, his eyes glaring and cold.

"I wanted to say sorry and then say thank you." She said, as they walked down the street together as she caught up with him. Sherlock didn't reply.

"So what's your brother like?" She asked him, beginning to feel the cold.

"Like any brother. Annoying." He replied, not looking down at her as she walked on the curb, balancing on the edge of the pavement with her arms outstretched. She laughed at his comment.

"Is he like you?" She asked.

"No. I'm not annoying." Sherlock rolled his eyes, waiting for her as she recovered her balance after stumbling from the pavement onto the road.

"Right." Claudia snorted. "Try saying that without sounding condescending." She grinned. Sherlock smirked, but hid it by turning around to look behind them into the night.

"Sherlock Holmes? Condescending? Never." He told her, and she giggled and walked normally on the pavement.

"Is this you forgiving me for shouting at you then?" She asked him, swinging her arms as they walked.

"No. This is me trying not to shove you in the road." He told her, and she stopped walking. Her head had tilted to the side and he stopped to see what the matter was. "What?" He asked.

"Rude." She told him, before skipping to catch up. "So go on, tell me about being a consulting detective." She urged.

"I'm the person the police run to when they inevitably mess up." He shrugged, his eyes darting around the dark street.

"So you're a genius?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Wouldn't want to seem condescending, would I Miss Watson?" He asked. She grinned.

"Where are we going?" She then asked.

"I don't know." Sherlock sighed, stopping in the middle of the street and turning around. "Let's go home." He told her.

"It's not my home." She reminded him as they walked back.

"It is if you want it to be." He told her. She smiled.

"Let's go for a coffee instead." She said, as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took a drag before meeting the wide eyes of Claudia Watson.

"What?" He asked. She shook her head.

"Nothing. Just didn't have you down as a smoker." She claimed.

"John doesn't know, but I've been sneaking them. He can be quite mean when it comes to smoking." Sherlock explained, taking another drag as he led Claudia to a coffee shop.

"I can imagine so. But really, you shouldn't do it." She told it, taking it from his mouth and throwing it on the floor before stamping on it. He glared at the back of her head as she marched onwards.

"Rude!" He exclaimed angrily, following her into the small coffee shop that she'd been in earlier that day with John. She grinned at him as they went to the counter.

"Vanilla latte and an Americano." Sherlock ordered for them both.

"How do you know what I like?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

"Because I'm a stalker." He told her, watching the colour drain from her cheeks. "No. It's my job to notice things. I noticed you look at it on the menu board." He smirked.

"I could imagine you as a stalker." She told him, as the worker placed their two mugs on the counter. Sherlock paid and they both carried their drinks to a table by the window. "You already know how to hack into people's bank accounts." She reminded him.

"Ah yes." He smirked, remembering the criminal from the night before. "He won't be using that account for quite some time." He told her.

"Good." Claudia nodded, looking at her drink and then up at Sherlock. He'd taken his coat and scarf off, and looked broodily at his drink.

Was that who he was? A brooder? A bad mood with curly hair and a purple shirt?

_'Where are you? -JW'_

_'So you've taken this whole initial thing up too?'_

_'When you receive countless texts from both Sherlock and Mycroft getting you to do their dirty work, you get used to the initial thing. You'll be doing it soon. -JW.'_

_'I beg to differ.'_

_'Where are you? -JW.'_

_'Getting coffee with Sherlock.'_

_'Sherlock? Drinking coffee? Just do one thing for me. When you leave, look to see if he drinks it. Tell me when you get in. -JW.'_

_'Why?'_

_'A personal experiment, Claude. -JW.'_

_'Fine.'_

Claudia looked up from her phone to find Sherlock looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"John?" He asked.

"No?" She said. "I'm Claudia." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I meant with the phone." He said impatiently.

"Yes." She said.

"In that case..." He said, and he picked his coffee up and drank most of it. He looked at her without saying anything, and then proceeded to put his coat and scarf on. Claudia did the same, putting her parka back on and standing up.

They both left the shop and walked the short distance home in a comfortable silence. When they got in, Sherlock immediately sat in his seat. John smiled at them both. He looked pointedly at Claudia. She walked into John's bedroom, and John followed.

"Did he drink it?" He asked.

"He asked if it was you texting me, I told him yes, and _then_ he drank it." She told him.

"Clever bugger." John sighed.

"Why?" Claudia asked.

"He never drinks coffee. So why would he make the exception to drink coffee with you?" John asked, and Claudia shrugged.

"Trying to be my friend?" She suggested. John knew that wasn't right, and went back into the living room, where Sherlock was smiling an innocent smile at him.

"Everything okay my dear Watson?" Sherlock asked, each hand on the arm of his seat.

"Fine." John nodded tightly, sitting back down and logging onto his laptop. "Just writing a new blog post." He grinned. Sherlock's smile faded.

"What on?" He asked.

"You'll have to wait and see. But I will tell you what it's titled." John told Sherlock cheerfully.

"What? What are you calling it?" Sherlock asked somewhat desperately.

"The Coffee Conundrum." John replied.

"Bastard." Sherlock said softly. "If you really want to know, I don't know why I had coffee with your sister. I also don't know why I helped her get a job." He snapped, leaving to go into his bedroom.

John shook his head, smiling softly. "Idiot." He claimed, and began typing into the body of his blog.

'_The Coffee Conundrum._

_Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, had coffee with my little sister and he doesn't know why._

_A mystery that Sherlock has not been able to solve. A rarity, if you will. I shall keep you updated, and I'm sure he'll try to stop me.'_


	5. A Golden Gun

"Ah, my favourite brother." Mycroft beamed as he was let into 221B for a treat.

"Your only brother." Sherlock corrected with his deep voice from his usual seat. He didn't even look up.

"Ah, and you must be Claudia." Mycroft smiled as he took in the appearance of a girl who looked nervous, but pretty nonetheless. "And John Watson, nice to see you again. We must speak more often." He then said, before motioning for Claudia to follow him into his chauffeured car."Oh, and Sherlock, please do try and see me and your mother more often. We worry." Mycroft smiled, before waving his umbrella as a goodbye and leaving the house.

"Bye!" Claudia called. John moved to the window and watched as Mycroft held the door open for her to get in. He then looked around before climbing into the car himself. He sighed, worried.

"He will look after her, won't he?" John asked.

"How should I know? You should have asked him that." Sherlock said helpfully. John gritted his teeth and watched as the car drove away.

"How are you repaying this to him?" John then asked, taking his seat on the couch.

"I said we'd pretend to be oblivious to the fact that he stalks us." Sherlock replied. "Which quite helpfully would give Claudia an insight to our lives; which is what you wanted, isn't it?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah." John said.

"You're welcome." Sherlock murmured, glancing at his friend before taking the laptop from the coffee table and logging in.

"Thanks." John said quietly, distracted. "What are you doing?" John asked.

"Researching Matt Halder." Sherlock replied.

"Why are you researching Claudia's ex?" John demanded, standing up and peering over Sherlock's shoulder. He was on his Facebook page.

"Would it be obvious and cliché to think that he employed Tim Smith to murder and try to kill us?" Sherlock asked.

"Who's Tim Smith? The man from before?" John asked. To be fair, there was a lot of people who'd tried to kill them.

"The very same. Who had Claudia under his disgusting hands." Sherlock said, sounding quite bitter. John gritted his teeth again, he felt the urge to punch something when he thought of what that treacherous man tried to do to his little sister.

"Maybe cliché. I'll help you look into it. But let's not tell Claude, we'd only worry her." John said. "Tea?" He asked. Sherlock nodded absently. "Coffee?" John called over, and Sherlock laughed a sarcastic laugh.

"I expect you to delete that ridiculous blog post." Sherlock shouted. "It puts me in a bad light! Like with the solar system post!"

"As my PA, you'll be expected to deliver and pick things up for me, to contact clientèle and to manage any paper work for me. Some of the things you will handle will be confidential, and if it occurs that you tell anyone else other than my brother and your brother what you see, someone will sort that little problem out for me, if you catch my drift?" Mycroft asked smoothly as he marched her to his office.

"No." Claudia said quietly.

"We will find whoever you told and threaten them, Miss Watson. The information you will see could cause a disaster, a catastrophe. The end to modern society. So don't tell anyone about it." Mycroft told her calmly. "And in return, you will have a sufficient little salary, the government's protection and my word to keep you safe." Mycroft promised quite kindly.

"How overwhelming." Claudia said as they paused at the door to his office, Mycroft's hand on the handle.

"Oh, you'll get used to it." He promised, opening the door and ushering her in, before shutting and locking it behind him.

Claudia's eyes widened.

"Don't worry." Mycroft smiled, putting his beloved umbrella on the mahogany table in the centre of the room, and striding to his desk. He leaned on it and looked at her. "I just need to give you something. All of my other staff will get jealous if they see me give it to you." He winked, he walked to the back of his desk and got a key from the pocket of his waistcoat. He then proceeded to unlock the centre drawer of the desk.

In the drawer was a red security box, with a thick and expensive padlock holding it together. Claudia gulped. Mycroft pulled a key from the desk and opened the box. Inside was a gun. On the gun was the word 'Claudia', inscribed in gold leaf. He handed it to her carefully, smiling as he did so.

"A rather expensive gun, but one that you will be required to keep on you at all times. I can sometimes deal with quite dangerous people, Miss Watson, and it makes me shiver to think of you unprotected." He smiled. He put the box in the drawer, as well as its key. He then slammed the drawer shut and locked it, the key going back into his pocket. "Put it in your bag, Miss Watson." He ordered impatiently, moving to the door. He waited until she'd done so before unlocking and opening the door.

He moved into the large open space outside of his office, which had three other people typing furiously on expensive and high tech computers. Two of them were on CCTV software, the other was hacking into someone's home computer and editing information. It all seemed very illegal, but the office was for the man who Sherlock claimed _was_ the government.

"This your desk." Mycroft said, leading her to an empty desk. Perched on it was a laptop, and a placard that read- 'Claudia Watson, Personal Assistant.'

"You won't be here very often. You'll mainly be doing little odd jobs for me, or accompanying me on outings and little skirmishes. A very nice job, Miss Watson. I hope you'll enjoy it before you go back to university." He smiled, before nodding at her and briskly walking into his office, where he shut the door.

Claudia swallowed, and put her bag on the desk, knowing full well that inside it was an expensive and dangerous bit of machinery. She looked disturbed as she sat on the office chair and spun it around to face the desk. She calmed down slightly. She could do this.

She opened the laptop and turned it on, waiting for it to load. She turned around in her chair to check out the people working, to find them looking at her. She smiled, and they smiled back.

"Has he told you anything?" The only man asked.

"Told me anything about what?" Claudia asked.

"What he does in there all day!" The man exclaimed.

"No. He hasn't even told me what his job really is." Claudia shrugged. "He just told me that I'll be sorting paperwork for him." She smiled.

The man looked disappointed and bit his lip. He was quite attractive, Claudia mused. He had dark brown hair, all messed up, and had a nice Scottish accent. He looked to be about twenty five.

"I'm Liam." He said. "She's Marie, and she's Carlie." Liam introduced, pointing at the other women. Marie looked older than Carlie, but only by a few years. They were both blonde, and could easily have passed for sisters.

"Hi." The girls both said, before going back to their work.

"Claudia." Claudia smiled, before also turning back to her laptop. Liam smiled at the back of her head and turned back to his work like the others.

"Claudia!" Came the call from Mycroft's office. Three pairs of eyes snapped to her as she walked into the office sheepishly.

Once inside, Mycroft handed her an envelope. It was brown, and A4 sized. "Do give this to the receptionist at the front desk. Tell her to send it post haste." Mycroft smiled, before turning back to his computer and effectively dismissing her. She nodded and tucked the envelope under her arm, before leaving the office and the small open room in which her desk was situated. She went into the lift and down to reception. The receptionist looked expectantly at her as she handed her the envelope.

"Is that all?" The woman asked. The woman didn't say anything else, and just stood up and put the envelope in a manilla folder. Claudia looked around, before realising she wasn't needed. She cleared her throat, pulled her blazer down slightly and went back to the lift.

Half a day had gone by and Claudia hadn't been told to do anything else since the envelope job. She was starting to get bored, and very bored, considering there wasn't anything more for her to do. Liam, Marie and Carlie all had specific jobs, and they all had to do them to perfection to get paid. Claudia, however, felt like a loose part in a web of woven confidentiality. She couldn't wait to get home, was the thought that had been flashing through her mind all day.

When she did get home, there was a cup of tea waiting for her on the coffee table. She smiled and picked it up, drinking some before collapsing on the couch. She looked into her bag and pulled out her specially made gun. She ran a finger over the golden name, and sighed.

"Expensive." That velvet voice claimed, as Sherlock walked into the room.

"How do you know?" Claudia asked, putting it quickly back into her bag. He shrugged and sat in his seat. "Today was... Overwhelming. And then boring." Claudia sighed, hoping that he would tell her everything was going to be fine. She didn't get such a courtesy, however.

"You'll never find a job you love until it's exactly what you want to do." Came the reply. "So have that in mind, and go for it."

She hoped that her brother would be more supportive. He walked into the room and sat next to her, ruffling her hair. "How was it?" He asked.

"Overwhelming. Boring." Came the reply. John's smile faded.

"Oh dear." He said. What happened to insight?

Claudia sighed. "Thanks for the support." She told them both sarcastically. Sherlock smirked and picked his phone up. He read for a moment.

"Mycroft told me to tell you to stop complaining." He said. Claudia's eyes widened, and John frowned.

"Tell him to shut up." John replied, putting an arm around her sister. Sherlock smiled as he typed out a reply. "The only pleasure Mycroft gets is from spying on his brother." John explained.

"And I take pleasure in dismantling his various spying camera's." Sherlock replied, glancing at the camera hidden behind the television, which he ignored, under instruction from his brother of course. Or he feared that Claudia would lose her job.

Claudia was sleeping well, despite all that had transpired through her first day at work. And so when the sound of a violin woke her up, she wasn't best pleased. She stormed from John's bedroom and into the living room, where Sherlock stood at the window, absently plucking on violin strings.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, looking furious.

"Nothing." Sherlock replied, and once again, his voice slid through the silence and straddled the night.

"Please would you stop, you're interrupting my sleep." Claudia said, not unkindly.

"I don't think so. You've interrupted my train of thought, if I were to stop playing, it would be broken completely." Sherlock said impatiently. Claudia groaned.

"Where's my brother?" She asked.

"Sleeping in my room. I told him I needed this room tonight." Sherlock replied.

"Do you ever sleep?" She asked, leaning on the wall and looking at him in the moonlight.

"Not really, no." He replied.

"Please could you do so now? Maybe your train of thought will be refreshed after sleep." Claudia suggested. Sherlock shook his head without even turning around.

"Goodnight, Claudia." He said. Claudia bit her tongue, angry that he'd dismissed her like a child.

"Who are you to talk to me like that?" She demanded, storming over to him and staring at him. That broke his train of thought, and he stopped plucking the violin. He looked down at her, glaring.

"The world's only consulting detective." He replied. "Because of you, I may never work again." He said melodramatically. "It's like when you're told to never supposed to wake a sleepwalker. Never stop my train of thought!" He exclaimed, sighing and sitting in his seat. He turned a lamp on and lit up the room. Claudia smirked and sat on the couch.

"You're never going to work again?" She asked. Sherlock didn't reply. "From what I see, you don't work anyway." She smiled, teasing him.

"Oh, so you work for one day and you suddenly you have the working moral high ground?" Sherlock demanded, teasing back in his own way. Claudia's smile faded, and she stared at him as if trying to suss him out.

"Right." She said, standing up. "Please don't play again, or I'll have to ruin your career further." She promised, before walking back into John's room and shutting the door. She climbed back into bed with a smile on her face. This faded however as she heard the plucking of the violin strings. The sound faded after ten seconds, and this caused her grimace to turn into a grin.

He'd had the last word. He'd teased her again.


	6. What's Wrong With Sherlock Holmes?

The next day, when Claudia walked into the office, she was confronted with the sight of all her fellow workers crowded around only Marie's computer. She joined them, peering over Liam's shoulder to find a CCTV film showing footage of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson sitting in her living room, talking.

"Why the hell are you watching my brother and friend?" She demanded angrily. Liam looked around,

"Hello to you, too." He smirked, leaving Marie's desk and walking back to his own. "This is one of the jobs Mycroft gets us to do. For about an hour a day, check in on what his brother is doing. He worries." Liam explained.

"So he spies on us all?" Claudia demanded.

"Not on you. He does on John a little bit, but he's mainly bothered about Sherlock." Carlie spoke up, also walking back to her own desk. "They can usually get themselves into trouble." She shrugged.

"John? In trouble? No." Claudia stated as if Carlie was somewhat simple. She raised her eyebrows and smirked.

"Oh yes, Miss Watson. Do you not know?" Mycroft Holmes asked from the door of his office, a dire smile on his face.

"Know what?" She asked. Mycroft motioned for her to join him in his office. There he shut the door and pulled out a few CCTV images. One was of John in what looked like a classroom, with a gun in his hand and a bullet flying from it. Another image showed him tackling someone onto the ground. He then pulled out various photo's of John and Sherlock at different crime scenes.

"Your brother, dear Miss Watson, has taken to joining my brother on his missions." Mycroft explained. "He has been for a while now. Solving crimes, murder cases. It's his job, sort of." Claudia bit her lip, especially glaring at the photo of John shooting a gun.

"What do they do exactly?" She asked.

"Let's have a look, shall we?" Mycroft asked, pulling up a data bank of CCTV footage from the past year of some of the things that had occurred in the flat. Sherlock walking in covered in blood, John treating various ghastly wounds, criminals battering the door down and charging in, shoving John against the wall. Claudia, with a manicured finger, pressed the escape button the keyboard, not wanting to watch any-more.

"That's not them." She assured herself shakily. Mycroft shrugged, a faint smile on his lips.

"If you say so." He told her. "But you know it's them."

"I just thought Sherlock was a hyped up police man! I thought John was a doctor!" Claudia exclaimed, her voice resonating a few pitches higher than usual. Once again, Mycroft shrugged.

"And now you see why I worry about him, and why I like to check up on them both." He explained.

"I don't believe it." Claudia frowned, not knowing what to think. "Tell me one thing. Am I in danger by living there?" She asked.

"Yes." Mycroft nodded. "But Sherlock made me promise to give you the government's full protection, and I will ensure I fulfil that promise." Mycroft told her. Claudia's eyes widened.

"Now, get me some coffee. Strong, without sugar." Mycroft smiled, ushering her from his office.

Claudia pulled her blazer down slightly, self conscious, and marched through to the kitchenette. She made the coffee, and took it back into his office. He thanked her, and let her get back to work.

For the rest of the day, she watched footage of them both live on CCTV, watching them with eagle eyes to make sure nothing bad happened to her brother. Or the man that had forced Mycroft to look after her.

The door to 221B opened with a bang, as it hit the wall in a rage and pinged back to the storm trapped in a person who was currently walking up the stairs.

"I'll shut the door then!" Mrs Hudson tutted, bumping it with her hip as she walked past with a tray in her hands. She didn't get a reply.

When Claudia walked into the living room, she launched her keys at Sherlock, who was sat in his usual seat, flicking a test tube to shake it's contents. He flinched and looked at her in alarm. She ignored him and continued through into John's bedroom, where she then collapsed on the bed with her arms outstretched, being very reminiscent of a starfish.

"John, control your insolent sister!" She heard Sherlock cry. Claudia harrumphed in a very dignified way and sat back up, foraging into her bag and pulling her phone out, where she'd transferred some of the footage that Mycroft had shown her onto the storage card. She then marched back through into the living room and then the kitchen, shoving the phone in John's face and pressing play. He looked bemused for a moment, thinking it a trick or something. His smile faded when he saw what it was. John and Sherlock being flung against the wall with guns pointed to their heads.

It had been a mundane case. Not very exciting at all.

"Claude..." John began, pressing the pause button and handing the phone back to her.

"When were you going to tell me that you have this kind of thing happen to you? I live here too!" She exclaimed.

"He does have a blog. I'd have thought you would have read it." Sherlock commented as he stalked into the kitchen. Claudia glared at him.

"Thanks for that, Sherlock." John said sarcastically.

"It's true. She would have known everything then." Sherlock told them both, tipping the contents of the test tube down the drain and putting the empty tube in the sink. He then left them to it.

"So now I have the protection of the government apparently, because it's that unsafe for me to live here." Claudia snapped, storming back through into the living room. John followed helplessly. His sister was a force to be reckoned with.

"How did you end up with protection from the government?" He asked, frowning.

"That would be me. I asked Mycroft to look after her." Sherlock said from his spot, typing something into his laptop.

"Claudia, you know I'd never let anything happen to you. This is just what we do, and we enjoy doing it." John reasoned, and he could visibly see his sister thawing out. She'd relaxed in her seat, and she wasn't glaring so much at Sherlock.

"I'm still not happy." She warned.

"Are you ever?" Sherlock asked quietly and lazily. Claudia punched his arm, quite hard and without any nice feeling behind it. John sighed. Never irritate a woman when she's already royally ticked off.

"Nice one." John said sarcastically, and Sherlock shrugged, not once turning to look at either of them.

"You do know that Mycroft watches you both all day." Claudia casually mentioned.

"Does he? I would never have guessed with that camera behind the television!" Sherlock exclaimed angrily, finally having enough of his brother stalking him. He then got up, ripped it from its lead and smiled, satisfied. Claudia raised her eyebrows.

A text came through on Sherlock's phone, and with gritted teeth, he opened it.

_'Your dear little Claudia will be out of a job, Sherly. -MH'_

He deleted the message and plugged the camera back in, leaving it behind the television. When the Watson siblings glanced at him for an explanation, he simply didn't give one. He shrugged.

_'That's more like it. -MH' _

"I heard you both talking about Matt." Claudia said quietly.

"How?" John asked.

"She's been watching us, John. She's worried obviously." Sherlock explained. Claudia glared at him.

"How did you know?" She demanded.

"You work for Mycroft, who has camera's bugged all over this room. You found out about what we do for a job. Ergo, you watched us on CCTV because the footage worried you. Child's play." Sherlock claimed. Claudia rolled her eyes.

"Right. What did you hear us say?" John asked calmly.

"You were tracking him down. You think he paid that man from the other night." Claudia explained. "You rang his work!" She then exclaimed, sounding betrayed.

"Yes, and yesterday we looked on his Facebook to find that he's now seeing someone else. What's your problem?" Sherlock asked insensitively. Claudia's eyes widened and she looked to John for comfort.

"It's not true." He lied. In fact, it was true. When Sherlock had been finding information about Matt Halder, his relationship status did in fact indicate that he had a new girlfriend. John had just thought it best to keep that from his little sister.

"Why would that upset you?" Sherlock demanded. "He cheated on you. I'd have thought you'd be glad to escape." He commented.

"I don't need your opinions." Claudia snapped, "It's nothing to do with you."

"It is actually. If I'm right, and I usually am, Matt is trying to kill one of us. It's my job to stop him from doing so." Sherlock said smugly. John sighed, a usual occurrence when in the presence of Sherlock Holmes.

"How do you even know?" Claudia asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

"A smart and calculated guess." Sherlock explained. "He knows you've moved here despite only telling your brother. The day you do move here, one of his henchmen is out and about, asking for us to find him. He then goes for you."

Claudia by then had her hands scrunched up on her eyes as she cried into them.

"Sherlock, will you shut up!" John shouted, moving closer to his sister and putting his arm around her. Sherlock harrumphed, much like Claudia had done before, and moved up so he was further away from the both of them.

There was a knock on John's bedroom door, and Claudia didn't even bother telling whoever was knocking to come in. She'd been in bed for an hour, and it was only 7pm. She was trying to get this Matt stuff out of her mind, but was finding it hard to do so. She turned over when the door opened, and she was shocked to find Sherlock stood there.

He had two cups of tea in his hands, and he moved into the room and put one of them on her bedside table.

"Thank you." She croaked. He didn't reply, he simply smiled ever so slightly.

"I didn't make it for you, if that's what you're thinking. John made it and told me to give it to you." He explained. Claudia rolled her eyes.

"I should have guessed." She said, turning back into her pillow and balling her duvet up so it hid her face. She felt the bottom of the bed go down, and she peeped over the duvet to find Sherlock watching her.

"What?" She mumbled.

"Why are you hiding?" He asked, sounding bemused.

"You'll think I'm weak or something if I cry." She claimed. Sherlock grinned to himself, but covered it up before Claudia could see it.

"I don't think people are weak if they cry. I envy them for not being a sociopath. But then again, I'd rather be a highly functioning sociopath than a normal person." Sherlock rambled, standing up and moving to the door.

"Good to know." Claudia laughed, and Sherlock laughed lightly too, before leaving the room and shutting the door gently behind him. "Idiot." She whispered.

3:00 AM.

She hadn't closed the curtains.

The light from the moon was streaming through the vented window and casting odd looking shadows on her body.

The scratch of a lighter being ignited, the amber glow of a cigarette, the smell of the burning tar. It all bit through the night and evicted the silence.

Sherlock was having his fifth cigarette of the day. The other four had been smoked in exactly the same place. The doorway to Claudia's bedroom. He was looking in on her, thinking and devising and trying to diagnose himself. What was wrong with him?

He was being even more offhandish than usual, even he knew that. But then he was being more caring, and it wasn't just because John had told him to be. Was it something in the water? No.

It was something different. Something he couldn't taste, and no amount of cigarettes could help him. It was something different that he'd never felt before. He couldn't quite place it but he knew he wasn't utterly adverse to it.

The feeling inside. It hurt, but it was warming. But what _was _it? He was sick of asking that question. What was wrong with him? He'd only had to ask it for about two decades.

What the hell was wrong with Sherlock Holmes?

Most romantic Sherlock fics I read have him being utterly emotionless and hardfaced. But really, I think they're wrong. If you watch Sherlock, really watch him, he clearly has emotions. And I also think he's caring, if he wanted to be. I'm trying to show that aspect of him here. He's not emotionless, and I also think he knows he's not normal, but he's come to terms with it.

He's never had anyone to love him, and maybe that makes him worse. Maybe he needs someone (other than John, of course) to love him. ENTER CLAUDIA.

If you think I've got it wrong, let me know! I'm interested to hear what you think, but this is my take on Sherlock Holmes, and it's not going to change! :D

-Fay x


	7. Battles

The bullet shot into his body with an ear-splitting bang, and it made an awful gushing noise as blood began to pour from the wound. He'd been shot in the chest, and by a coward too. He hadn't shown his face. Sherlock groaned as he fell to the floor, the impact of the bullet shattering his stance. John bent down with an anguished yell, and tried to keep him elevated. He fumbled in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, but it had died.

So, they were in a practically empty street, Sherlock had been shot, and he had no phone to call an ambulance.

"Oh, God. Stay with me, Sherlock." John said, gritting his teeth and getting Sherlock's phone.

"Fucking Christ!" Sherlock yelled in agony. John dialled an ambulance. As they waited, he anxiously looked around to try and find the criminal who did this. Nobody. He could see nobody.

Great. They had no leads, either. Absolutely wonderful.

"This. Is. So. Boring." Claudia groaned as she span around on her spinny chair. "Mycroft told me that I'd be doing jobs for him all day every day, but all he's done is made me take an envelope to reception and spy on his brother. That's it! In one week."

She turned to see why nobody was replying, to find nobody in the office with her. She blushed. She'd been talking to herself. She really hoped nobody was watching her on CCTV.

"Talking to yourself?" A Scottish voice asked. It was Liam, walking through the door and walking to his seat, breathing heavily as he did so.

"Ha. No. You must be hearing things." Claudia lied, not wanting to look at him. He laughed shortly, before taking an inward gasp.

"Claude." He said quickly. "C'mere." He instructed. Claudia slowly walked to his desk and leant on the back of his chair, looking over his shoulder to find CCTV footage of an ambulance pulling up by her brother and Sherlock. Both of their clothes were stained with blood and John looked anxiously at Sherlock, who was being loaded into the ambulance and injected with something to take the pain away.

"I've gotta go. If Mycroft asks, I didn't feel well." Claudia said quickly, running to her chair and grabbing her bag and coat.

"Wait! I'll drive you!" Liam exclaimed. "Mycroft's out anyway. He won't miss us." He promised, his nutmeg messy hair falling into his eyes as he put his jacket on and got his keys from his drawer. He then ran a hand through his hair and made it spike up at all ends once more. He smiled supportively at Claudia and waited for her to finish putting her coat on, and then they both made a dash for the door.

He opened the car door for her and she got in, watching him run to the other door. What a nice person, Claudia mused as she tried to push all thoughts of a dying Sherlock to the back of her mind.

"I hope he's OK." Claudia sighed, closing her eyes as she felt Liam start the car and speed from the sky-high building.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Liam assured her.

"Thanks for taking me." Claudia smiled.

"No problem. Just making sure you're okay." He smiled, his eyes crinkling as he did so. He got them to the hospital in expert time, and they made their way to his room after asking reception. He'd been rushed into intensive care, and already had a bed.

His eyes were scrunched up in pain, and John was sat on a chair next to his bed. He wasn't in a private room, but the nurse told Claudia that he'd be moved to one when they'd cleaned it.

"I'll... Uh, leave you to it, Claude." Liam said, touching her arm. "Just text me if you need me to pick you up. Phone." He said, holding his hand out for her to give him her phone.

"Why?" She asked, taking it out of her pocket.

"To put my number in." He smirked, his long fingers taking the phone from her and typing his number in, giving it back with a flourish and a smile. He then put his hands in his pockets and nodded his goodbye. She watched him walk away, before turning to her brother and Sherlock.

"What happened?" She demanded, glaring at Sherlock. John sighed.

"He was shot." He explained.

"Who by?" Claudia asked, fearing the worst. Could Matt have paid someone else to try and get to Claudia?

"We don't know, Claudia. Could you try not to ask such infuriatingly annoying questions." Sherlock muttered, looking down at a white sterile pad that had been put over his chest, and staring at the sheer amount of blood it had absorbed. "Shouldn't this be changed?" He mused.

"Yes." John said, sounding irritated. "This hospital's bloody awful." He complained, standing up and going to look for a nurse.

Claudia looked out of place, awkward in fact. Sherlock looked up at her with calm eyes, and motioned with his head for her to pull up a seat, which she did.

"How does it feel?" She asked.

"Annoying question." Sherlock informed her. Claudia sighed.

"You're even worse when you're in pain." She stated. Sherlock didn't reply for a while.

"Isn't everybody?" He asked after a minute or two. Claudia smiled, and looked down the ward to find the nurse being marched over to them by John. She could hear him call her 'incompetent' and 'lazy.'

"How rude." Sherlock claimed.

"Oh, the irony. I've heard you say ruder things about me." Claudia noted, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry I haven't changed it." The nurse apologized, glaring at John who sat back down and looked pointedly at Sherlock's red bandage. She pulled back the sheets and carefully took his gown off.

"Haha!" Claudia exclaimed, not expecting him to be wearing a hospital gown. "You're wearing a dress!" She laughed. Sherlock glared at her. "Are you wearing those socks too? Haha! You're wearing those circulation socks!" She laughed. He glared further. She tried to stop her laugh, and settled for a smirk instead.

Underneath the gown he had no shirt on but still had his trousers on that he'd been wearing before. The nurse carefully changed and cleaned his wound.

"You'll be going into surgery in about two hours. We'll be taking you into the waiting ward in about an hour to get you ready and to apply general anaesthetic." The nurse explained, putting his gown back on and smiling. Sherlock didn't reply, he just looked moodily around at the white room.

"And will I get my own room then?" He demanded.

"Yes." The nurse replied, sounding put out. She walked away.

"I don't even care about a bullet in my chest! Can't you take me home?" Sherlock sulked.

"You've got to get it out, or it could get infected." John explained as if talking to a child. Sherlock grumbled to himself about not believing in infections.

"Oh no." Claudia groaned as she turned around to find the looking figure of Mycroft and his umbrella further down the corridor. "I left work without telling him." She explained, standing up to meet her fate.

"If he shouts at you, call me over. I'm in the mood for an argument." John told her, sounding angry. Claudia nodded before walking over to Mycroft.

"Miss Watson." He said rather pleasantly. "I saw you leave with Liam as I was pulling up." He said.

"I'm sorry, I just had to go! You know how it is." Claudia apologised.

"Don't worry, Miss Watson. I would have told you to go anyway, you obviously care a lot about my brother." Mycroft smiled.

"I do?" Claudia frowned.

"Liam said you were practically hyperventilating." Mycroft replied.

"No I wasn't." Claudia said. "I was just worried. Were you not when you found out?" She asked.

"It's not the first time he's been shot, my dear. Shall we go over?" He asked, holding his arm out for her to take; which she did. She linked it and they both walked back down the ward and joined Sherlock and John.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock sighed, glaring up at his older brother with annoyance.

"Am I not allowed to be worried about you, Sherly?" Mycroft asked, and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I've had a sudden change of heart, John. In fact, can I not have my operation sooner?" Sherlock asked.

Sherlock was sat up in his bed, his chest aching from his operation. Luckily for him, the only company he had was Claudia, who was being relatively quiet and so wasn't annoying him. John had gone home to change his clothes and Mycroft had to go back to work, but he told Claudia to stay.

So she had done. She was sat by his side, almost falling asleep with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Either go to sleep or help me with something." Sherlock said deeply. "It seems like you're staring at me." He then added as some sort of explanation. His voice woke her up from her almost-slumber, and she sat up properly, blinking heavily as she did so.

"Help you with what?" She asked sleepily, stifling a yawn and ruffling her hair up to stop it sticking to her face.

"I want to create a sort of map." He replied. "A map that can help us to work out who shot me." He said lazily. Claudia smiled, why would she be able to help him?

"Can it not wait until another time?" She asked, concerned that Sherlock was in a lot of pain. He was groaning inwardly, and he had gritted teeth. He shook his head.

"I think I should get a nurse." Claudia muttered, standing up and looking out the window, surprised to see it already dark. Well, she had been there for a very long time. Hours and hours. The only one left by his side, and the one who'd known him for the shortest amount of time, too. How odd.

"**Don't **call a nurse." Sherlock insisted, his eyes opening and finding her immediately.

"Why not? You're obviously in pain." She said quietly, her voice low. Sherlock closed his eyes again.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Claudia, but I'd rather like to go home. If the nurses know I'm in pain, they won't let me go home." Sherlock explained through gritted teeth. Even with his teeth in the way, Claudia's heart beat a little faster when she heard him say her name. Another odd thing.

"Okay." She said, sitting back down. "I won't call a nurse." She said.

"Promise me? The sooner I'm home, the sooner we can make this stupid map." He said.

"The map was your idea." Claudia frowned.

"So it was." Sherlock nodded, not opening his eye. Claudia was worried. Was the pain making him delirious? Making sure his eyes were closed, with a dead look on her face, she reached behind his bed and hit the call button for the nurse to come. A beeping noise came from the button and Claudia winced.

Sherlock sat up. "Do not make me sleep." He hissed. "She'll give me those bloody pain killers that send you to sleep. You promised me." He groaned. He was glaring at her.

"Why don't you want to sleep?" She asked, starting to panick under his glare. He refused to answer.

"Tell the nurse I do not want to sleep." He said, as the nurse rushed over to them both.

"He's in a lot of pain. Give him anything, please, nurse." Claudia asked quietly, knowing that she was betraying Sherlock's trust but wanting to put him out of his pain.

The nurse injected a liquid into Sherlock's IV bag, and left them to it with a sharp smile to Claudia. Claudia sat down and looked to Sherlock's angry and hurt expression. Claudia immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry." She said. "You need sleep, and you need pain killers." She shrugged.

"I don't want to sleep." He hissed, his eyes closing and drooping shut, his body relaxing.

The helpless look on his face made Claudia want to cry. The guilt was tripping on her. Whatever the reason Sherlock didn't want to sleep, he _really_ didn't want to sleep. He was fighting it with every fibre of his being, and Claudia was witnessing the fight. The fight between alertness and fatigue.

"Sorry." Claudia whispered as he finally lost the fight and drifted off into a deep and painless sleep. His curls were pushed back, all except for one stray curl in the centre of his forehead. She pushed it back and took his hand all in one fluid movement.

She knew that he'd never let her do this if he was conscious and awake. Maybe that's the true reason Claudia wanted Sherlock to sleep – so she could hold his hand and comfort his properly, the old fashioned way, the way Sherlock would never allow.

The guilt wouldn't shake off. She'd betrayed his trust, and his free will.

She knew she'd pay for this another day, and she wasn't looking forward to it.

It seemed that Claudia was also fighting the battle between alertness and fatigue, for her eyes also began drooping shut. Her body slumped in the chair and her head fell to her chest, her eyes closed as she slept.

All through the night, their two limp hands stayed clasped together. A battle between Sherlock and Claudia- a fight never to be won.


	8. Impressions of Mycroft

"Will you stop being ridiculous?" Said that silky deep voice.

John smiled himself. Sherlock was being as pleasant as usual. The odd thing was that Claudia hadn't gone home the previous night. He had rang her numerous times, but she hadn't even answered the phone. Because of the lack of communication and that lack of _Claudia_, John assumed she'd stayed there and slept by Sherlock's side.

"How bloody _romantic. _Fine, Claudia, by all means, stay by someone's side when they're in hospital. It's endearing. Lovely, in fact. But just do not, _under any circumstances,_ do that with Sherlock Holmes." John muttered to himself as he approached the pair.

"What was that?" Claudia asked, looking up at her brother and smiling.

"Uninteresting, whatever it was." Sherlock grumbled.

"He's in a bad mood." Claudia said, frowning. John watched Sherlock's frustrated look when Claudia said that and smirked.

"How are you feeling?" John asked, sitting down on a chair by the bed. He looked fine. Obviously he wasn't, he'd been shot and undergone drastic surgery. But, you know, he didn't look tired or anything.

"Great. Fine. Brilliant. Except your sister won't stop interfering." Sherlock moaned, glaring at Claudia. "When are you going home?" He asked rudely. Claudia smiled and picked up her bag.

"Right now." She said, standing up. She patted John's shoulder. "Good luck." She said, before glancing at Sherlock and leaving.

"Well done. Out of all things you could have said to her, you said that. Just... Well done." John said in his usual way.

"What would you like me to say?" Sherlock asked lazily.

"Thanks for staying with me all night? Even though you didn't have to? And you barely know me? Sherlock, you can just be blind sometimes." John sighed.

Sherlock didn't reply, he simply sat.

"How is my brother, Claudia dear?" Mycroft asked from the confines of his office.

"Same as always. It's good to know that Sherlock doesn't stop because of a bullet." Claudia joked, smiling sweetly. Mycroft smiled back, hands crossed on his chest as he observed her.

"Brilliant. When is he coming home?" Mycroft asked.

"Hopefully not soon. Look, I'm really tired. The hospital isn't a comfortable place to sleep. Is it all right if I go home?" Claudia asked, frowning and trying to look sincere. Like she really wanted to be there. Mycroft nodded and waved for her to leave with his hand.

"Good day." He said, before Claudia let herself out.

When she got back to Baker Street, everything seemed to slow down. She wasn't in a rush, she wasn't looking after Sherlock and she didn't have to worry about pleasing Mycroft.

She unlocked the door and just allowed the hazy confines of 221B drown her sorrows. She walked through the main room and into John's bedroom, where she collapsed in his bed and went straight to sleep.

Thoughts of a certain black haired man clouded her dreams all through the day.

"When am I allowed to go home?" Sherlock demanded, barking at the nurse with the rage of a psychopath.

"He gets ratty when he's bored." John apologized.

"John is a doctor. An army doctor. He knows what to do with me if anything happens. In fact, I'm going to discharge myself. I know you can't stop me." Sherlock ranted, standing up and holding back to the wince that came with moving.

The nurse looked at him in despair, before moving her pleading eyes to John.

"You're a doctor?" She asked.

"Yes." John confirmed. "If he really wants to go home, you can't stop him. I'll look after him." He sighed, bending down and collecting a few of Sherlock's things. "My, you've been busy." He said, holding up the crudely sketched mind map of who shot Sherlock.

"Boredom calls, John." Sherlock shrugged, taking the ridiculous gown off and putting on a purple shirt that John had brought him. He also took off the circulation socks, glad that Claudia wouldn't be able to tease him with them any more. He dumped everything on the bed and looked expectantly at the nurse.

"I'm going to get you some strong pain killers, and some saline solution and bandages to clean the wound. Your doctor friend can do that. I expect you to check in to this hospital every day for a week so we can check up on it. If you don't, I will personally come to your house and make sure it's not infected." The nurse warned, writing something down on his chart. She then ripped it off and gave it to Sherlock who signed his name on the consent form.

The nurse walked off with a flourish and Sherlock smiled happily at John. John sighed.

"You should let people look after you for once." John chided.

"You can look after me when we're home." Sherlock assured him.

"Great." John said sarcastically. He picked Sherlock's bag up and the two of them walked off, intent on getting the painkillers and going home.

The door banging open and then shut woke Claudia up. Startled, she climbed out of bed and cautiously opened the door. She sighed with relief when she saw it was just John and Sherlock, with Mrs Hudson fussing behind them both.

"I was going to come and visit you, Sherlock, but I just haven't had time. What with cleaning your apartment up so that I don't have you shouting at me when I do it..." Mrs Hudson trailed.

"It's fine." Sherlock assured her. "But I think we could all benefit from a cup of tea." He urged. Mrs Hudson nodded and walked meekly into the kitchen.

"How are you?" Claudia asked from the doorway she was leaning. Sherlock glanced at her.

"Thank you for staying with me all night even though you didn't have to and you barely know me." Sherlock said, flashing one of his insincere smiles. Claudia looked awkwardly at John and nodded.

"You're very welcome." She said.

"Brilliant." Sherlock said, sitting down and groaning. "Pain killers!" He exclaimed. John threw the pack to Claudia.

"Get his some water, would you?" He asked kindly. Claudia went to the kitchen and did so.

"You do know these are the ones that make you sleep?" She asked Sherlock quietly. His face betrayed his displeasure.

"It's fine." He lied. Claudia popped two for him and handed them over with the water. He took them and his eyelids immediately began to get droopy.

When John came back in the room he smiled at the two of them before covering it up.

"Did you have a nice day?" He asked Claudia.

"I slept for most of it." Claudia replied sheepishly. "I was pretty tired."

"That's what you get for staying up with..." John trailed upon hearing Claudia's phone. The song was 'All You Need Is Love' by the Beatles. She answered it.

"Hello?" She sounded cautious. John obviously could only hear half of the conversation, but he felt ready to punch a wall at the ending of it. "No, who the hell are you? He's fine. I don't see how it's any of your business if he's at home. Yes. Who are you? You know I can trace this call. Yes, I intend to do so." She said, and hung up.

"What is it?" John asked.

"A man. Asking how Sherlock was and if he was home. He said he's watching us." Claudia said, sounding somewhat scared.

John jumped from his seat and began searching the apartment.

"Oh, I don't know where to look. Sherlock's always better at this stuff." John complained, standing on a chair and searching the book case for the hidden camera. Claudia did the same, searching behind ornaments and even in a skull.

"Please tell me this skull isn't real." Claudia begged.

"It's not real." John lied, reaching up behind a book.

"Is that a clever lie?" Claudia asked.

"It's a clever lie." John nodded, pulling the camera from it's place by a book. He let it drop to the floor. He then got down and stamped on it.

"Hopefully that's the last one." John said, holding his hand out and helping Claudia down.

"So the flat gets bugged a lot then?" Claudia asked. John nodded, not yet wanting to scare Claudia off. Although if she hadn't gone yet, John couldn't imagine what would scare her off.

"A few times. Sherlock has some enemies." John shrugged. "His brother being one." He eyed the camera that was still by the TV. He sat back down. Claudia did the same, watching Sherlock sleep.

"Should I go and order a takeaway?" John asked, sounding tired as he looked at his sister. She smiled and nodded. John grinned and put a hand on her shoulder as he walked past to get in the kitchen.

While he was gone, Claudia took the time to look at Sherlock Holmes. He looked peaceful and eerie.

"That's the second time in a 48 hours I've told you to stop staring. And look underneath the coffee table. There may just be another camera there." Sherlock said quietly. Claudia narrowed her eyes. She ducked down to look under the table. She pulled the camera off with a sigh, and did as John did, stamping on the camera and leaving the remnants on the floor.

"Nicely done." Sherlock complimented without opening his eyes.

"You're supposed to be sleeping." Claudia told him.

"You woke me up with your loudness and breathing." Sherlock told her.

"Would you not be better in your bedroom?" She asked. "I'll help you there if you want." She suggested, noticing how tired he looked. Sherlock didn't reply, and Claudia supposed he'd dozed back off to sleep again.

"Tomorrow, I'll help you trace the call." Sherlock told her. Claudia smiled and looked down at her phone. She put it on the table and sat back in her seat.

"Do you ever get bored of this life? The running away, the constant uncertainness. There's a lack of security in your life." Claudia asked, musing to herself.

"It's John's life too." Sherlock reminded her. Claudia nodded to herself. "But no, it's impossible to get bored with this job."

"The world's only consulting detective." Claudia grinned.

"Are you mocking me?" Sherlock asked, his top lip curling up into a smile. Claudia smirked.

"Course not." She assured him unconvincingly. She stood up and got a blanket from John's room, draping it over his body.

Immediately, his eyes shot open and he pushed the blanket onto the floor.

"What's that?" He asked warily.

"A blanket?" Claudia asked weakly.

"People don't get me blankets." Sherlock told her, somewhat defensively.

"I won't be nice in the future then." Claudia shrugged, sitting back down. Sherlock closed his eyes again and leaned back, leaving the blanket on the floor.

Frustrated, Claudia went into the kitchen, where John was arguing with the man on the other end of the phone. About what, Claudia wasn't sure. John simply hung up the phone and glanced at his little sister.

"It's not always like this." He promised.

"Like what?" Claudia asked.

"Shooting and spy cameras and bloody arguments with takeaway men." John ranted, sounding fed up.

"Should we go out tomorrow night?" Claudia asked, hating to see her brother so frustrated. He nodded, smiling.

"Where?" He asked.

"We'll cross that hurdle, John dearest, when we come to it." Claudia smirked.

"What was that about? John dearest?" John laughed.

"I was pretending to be Mycroft!" She exclaimed, grinning like a madman. John laughed, and shook his head.

"Awful." He told her.

"You love it." She raised her eyebrows at him, and they both walked into the front room.

"Sherlock. Time to go to bed." John said patiently, getting a pillow and batting his feet to wake him up. "Time to sleep in your own bed." He repeated. Sherlock sighed.

He didn't want to ask for help so he assumed John knew he had to help him.

He stood up and wobbled, so John got him under the arms and helped him to his bedroom. He then put him in bed, even fluffing the cushions beforehand.

"I'm checking on you in an hour." John told him.

"Oh yay. I look forward to that." Sherlock said sarcastically. Claudia stifled a laugh when she heard Sherlock's bedroom door slam and John come marching into the living room.

"TV?" He asked, collapsing on the couch next to his sister.

"Oh yes." She grinned, and they both leaned back in their seats- both slobs together.

Matt put down the phone, hanging up the call and leaning back in his seat, satisfied. His Claudia Watson, the pretty little flower who'd left him, was well and truly coming into her own. Talking back to him like that. Odd how she didn't even recognise his voice. Although, he thought, he was putting an accent on.

Maybe that was the answer to his success. His new accent. Wonderful.

He laughed to himself and stood up, stretching like an overfed cat. He went into his kitchen and opened one of the drawers, pulling out the sharpest kitchen knife he owned. He walked back into his living room and took a seat.

He pulled a box from the floor onto his knee and cut into it with the knife, smiling manically at the contents. Tiny little headsets. The smallest in the world- he'd ordered them specially.

Ah, they won't know what's coming.

I know nothing much is happening, but I'm really trying to develop characters and relationships before I delve into the storyline. I'm glad to see you're liking it so far!

Also, thanks for the kind wishes regarding college applications and such. Thank God I won't have to do all that for another two years. Anyway, your wishes paid off as I got into the college I wanted to. Bonus points for Fay.


	9. Lunch With Sherlock

Sherlock awoke to the sound of laughter. It was a pleasurable way to wake up, he thought lazily, but he would have preferred to continue with his sleep. He sighed and sat up, wincing at the usual pain in his chest. He grunted as he stood up, hating whoever had done this to him.

Not that he didn't know. Not that it wasn't completely obvious. Even Claudia must have known who shot Sherlock Holmes. He'd been stalking her, trying to find out more about her living situation, he'd even bugged their flat to spy on them. Matt Halder. The ex-boyfriend with a vengeance. Trying to wipe out the main line of defence. Or attack, whichever way you wanted to look at it.

Get rid of Sherlock, get rid of John, and he would have free access to Claudia. All this meant to Sherlock was that he'd have to keep an eye on John, considering he'd be the next in his line of attack. Or his henchman's line of attack- simply following orders.

He slowly, as not to put pressure on the wound, put on his dressing gown and walked out into the living room. John smiled at him and held up the bottle of saline solution and waved it tauntingly at him. Sherlock inwardly groaned. Unnecessary pain.

He turned his attention to Claudia who was dressed for the weather. Spring was beginning to shine through London's frosty exterior, in fact, sunlight was pouring through the heavy closed curtains. That was a sure sign that the weather was there to stay.

Despite it not being summer, Claudia was wearing a summery dress. Way above the knee, with no arms and no heavy material. In fact, Sherlock thought she looked quiet pretty, for a Watson.

"Stop staring at me." Claudia told him without looking up, repeating what he'd said to her twice. Sherlock glared at her as John looked up at him, surprised by his sister's harsh comment.

"Saline time." John smirked at Sherlock, leading him into the kitchen. Claudia winced when she heard Sherlock's sharp intakes of breath as the salt water washed the wound. She could tell he was in a lot of pain. However, his pain did not want to make her see a gun shot wound- no matter how many times John told her it was pretty cool and that he'd have a cool scar. 'Cool scars' didn't bother her.

When the two men re-emerged into the living room, Sherlock was still obviously in pain. He sat down in his usual seat and glared at nothing in particular.

"Saline time makes you grouchy." Claudia said, still engrossed in the book she was reading. Sherlock chose to ignore her.

"Saline time doesn't deserve the 'cute' little nickname you and your brother have given it. 'Saline time' does not efficiently describe it." He suddenly snapped. Claudia raised her eyebrows with a smile. She'd gotten used to his little quips.

"What would you call it then?" She asked gently.

"Let's put Sherlock in more pain time." He snapped, leaving for his bedroom. He'd just made it through the door when he realised that he needed to talk seriously with Claudia. He backtracked and walked back into the living room, sitting down like nothing had happened. Claudia set her book down and looked up at him.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm thinking you need something from me. You just stormed off and now you're back." She smirked.

"I've taught you well." Sherlock said deeply. At that moment, John walked back into the living room and sat next to his sister, his hands nicely washed and clean.

"What are we doing today? Going to find the culprit?" John asked.

"No. I'm taking your sister out for lunch." Sherlock said. Claudia frowned, looking incredibly confused.

"Are you?" She asked.

"Sherlock, you were shot two days ago." John reminded him.

"So? You can't keep me in the house for ever John. I'll stagnate." Sherlock complained, leaning back in his seat dramatically.

"Fine." John rolled his eyes. "I expect you both back before three, or I'll come and find you for Saline Time." John warned.

"We're not calling it that anymore." Claudia said.

"Oh?" John asked.

"It's been christened 'Let's Put Sherlock in More Pain Time.'" Claudia smirked, nodding at Sherlock as a 'Will you stop complaining now?' type of gesture.

John chuckled, looking between the two of them with a complacent look.

"Good luck with lunch today." John grinned at his sister, and her smile dropped. She'd be going out for lunch with Sherlock. Why hadn't she protested yet?!

More worryingly, why didn't she want to protest?

The restaurant Sherlock had chosen was pleasant, and quite aesthetically pleasing. With plush furniture, deep crimson walls and a grand oak floor, it was obviously quite an expensive joint. Match all that with the incredibly large diamond chandelier up above, Claudia felt out of place in her sun dress.

Sherlock himself was glancing over the menu like he was reading a good book. Claudia had already chosen, but Sherlock had been rereading the same menu for about five minutes without saying a word or looking up.

"Everything okay?" Claudia asked worriedly, feeling quite awkward.

"Yes." Sherlock replied, not looking up and not giving away anything.

"Why are we here?" Claudia sighed, knowing he wouldn't just want to take her out for lunch. He had an ulterior motive.

"I needed to talk to you. I couldn't talk to you with John batting around." Sherlock shrugged, finally slamming the menu down and looking up at her with a small smile.

"Well, go for it. Talk." Claudia motioned.

"John's next." Sherlock said simply. Claudia blinked. "I was shot, and he's next. He's next on a hit list of two people. Three if you include yourself."

"Why would you not include me?" Claudia demanded. "No wait, if John's next on a 'hit list', why the hell are we out without him?!" She demanded.

"Oh, it won't be today. I've made calculations, done by best deducting, it won't be for another three weeks. Three weeks ago, that murderer was being obvious and blatant and he tried to... Get you. Two days ago I was shot. Three weeks between the two events. He likes order, or he would have got John when he got me. Gosh, what's it like not being me?" Sherlock asked, frowning intently.

"So you're basing my brother's safety on some shoddy deductions you've made? They're not even deductions, Sherlock, you've guessed!" She exclaimed. "Two events that just happened to be three weeks apart, and you're leaving my brother on his own. Brilliant." She said, standing up and putting her coat on.

"Listen." Sherlock said, gazing intently at her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the table, not letting her hand go when she stood next to him. "I promise you, Claudia Watson, your brother is safe." He said, looking her directly in the eye. "Now, sit back down, please." He asked. Claudia trusted him.

She took her seat, aware that various people were watching the two of them warily.

"Have you at least told him to be careful?" Claudia asked. Sherlock shook his head and Claudia sighed. "What's wrong with you?" She asked.

"How many people have asked me that question." Sherlock muttered, smiling to himself. Claudia immediately felt guilty.

"I didn't mean it like that." She told him gently. He looked up at her.

"I'm not going to tell John until necessary. He'll be angry and worried. He won't want to sleep. If he's tired all the time from lack of sleep, how will he react quick enough to an attack?" Sherlock asked.

"I suppose that makes sense." Claudia shrugged. "I'd just feel better with him knowing." She said. "Please tell him." She said, using the same technique Sherlock had just moments ago. She looked his straight in the eye. Sherlock seemed taken aback. His mouth parted and he simply watched her. He nodded. She smiled at him and put her hand over his. She kept it there for a moment before taking it back. A sweet little gesture, she thought to herself.

"And it's Matt. Isn't it? Matt's doing this?" She asked, more stating a fact than asking for his opinion. Sherlock nodded. "Can you not arrest him?" She asked. "You obviously know it's him. And you obviously hold some authority in the police." She said, pleading him with her eyes.

"No hard evidence. It would be a waste of time. We'll have to vigilante. Do it ourselves. Don't worry, Claudia. I'll get him." He promised her.

John heard the oddest thing that day. The front door opening, footsteps walking up the stairs. Two people. Two steps at the same time. Two people were walking up the stairs to his flat. Then that door opened, and he heard them laugh. Sherlock and Claudia were laughing? Claudia had been living with them for almost a month, and he hadn't yet heard them laughing together. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he peeked around the door.

When they walked in the room, John held up the saline bottle like he had that morning.

"Saline time." John called, following the reluctant Sherlock into the kitchen. Claudia rolled her eyes. She collapsed on the couch, a small smile on her lips. She glanced around the room. Her eyes stopped in one place. Above the connector door to the kitchen, on the little ledge that held the whole room together, there was a tiny little camera. She glared at it. She marched into the kitchen, ignored Sherlock and John, grabbed the broom and hit the camera, causing it to fall from its stand to the floor. She then smashed it with her heel.

"How do they get in here?!" She asked herself, throwing the broom to the floor and collapsing back on the couch. "Bloody Matt." She grumbled.

"Oh dear, dear. The fury of a Claudia. The fury of a Watson. I've seen that rage before. You'll have to do better than that, darling." Matt said in his wavering voice. One of his voices. He had a few. He was watching 221B Baker Street on a large television screen more intently than he'd watched anything in his life. Watching Claudia and Sherlock Holmes get closer and closer, laughing with each other, making little inside jokes. Watching them live their lives happily. It sickened him.

She didn't deserve to be happy, and he, Sherlock Holmes, deserved a fall.

He got his Blackberry out and began typing furiously on it, before hitting send and falling back in his chair with a sly smile..

_It doesn't have to be like this, my love. You could be my partner in crime. We could rule the world. There's no use pretending, darling, I'm not the man you thought I was. I could take over the world in a second – and you could join me._

Claudia's good mood evaporated. She dropped her phone like it was on fire.

"There must be cameras everywhere. He's still watching me!" Claudia exclaimed, looking around avidly for the cameras. John and Sherlock both walked into the room.

"What?" John asked.

"He just texted me. He's still watching us." Claudia said. Sherlock sighed and marched around the room, he collected the camera Mycroft planted behind the TV, along with two others he found.

John, I'm going to try and trace the signal. Mycroft will text in about two minutes. Tell him where to go." Sherlock said, walking to the desk and plugging in the laptop, opening it up. He didn't care if Mycroft fired Claudia, John's safety meant more to him than his brother's petty threats.

Sure enough, Mycroft texted two minutes later.

_Go ahead, brother dearest. Your motives are better than mine. Nice to see you acting human. Welcome to the bright side. If that's what you can call it, it's darker than you think. MH_

"You got something wrong, Sherlock." John mused.

"I never get things wrong." Sherlock replied.

"_He does." _John mouthed to Claudia, who giggled. "Mycroft told you to go ahead. He says your motives are better than his and it's nice to see you acting human. What does he mean?" John asked.

"I don't know, John. Why don't you ask him that. That's the beauty of having a mind, you can form a conversation." Sherlock quipped. Claudia rolled her eyes and turned to watch what he was doing. He was hacking into the software deviser to find out about the initial installer of the camera. She turned back to John. If she even asked Sherlock what he was doing, he'd only spout some technological nonsense.

_What do you mean, acting human? -JW_

_Ah, John. You don't see it? MH_

_See what? -JW_

_Keep your eyes open. Watch him. You'll figure it out. Send my regards to your sister, John. -MH_

John ignored him and turned Sherlock's phone off. He'd had enough of Mycroft and his bloody riddles. John knew it wasn't anything important, because if it was, Mycroft would have kidnapped him already. The Holmes' brothers seemed to have a _lot_ of intelligence but no common sense, John mused.

"Need help?" John asked Sherlock.

"Nope." Came the reply, Sherlock even popping the 'P'.

"Good." John said, sitting on the couch next to his sister. "How I like it. Sometimes." He smiled.

Things in the next few months were going to get interesting. He just didn't want to bring Claudia in the middle of it all. He supposed it was too late for that now.


	10. The Murder House

"He's in the city." Sherlock said, slamming the laptop down with a bang and turning to the Watson siblings. "I had a feeling he might be, but he definitely is." He explained. "But he's not actually doing anything, is he? Apart from delegating roles?" Claudia frowned. Sherlock nodded.

"As if he'd get his hands dirty." He sneered. "Let's find him. John, with me. Claudia, stay here." Sherlock instructed. Claudia laughed shortly and stood up. She shrugged her jacket on and joined them as they left the house.

"You're not coming." Sherlock insisted.

"Why not?" Claudia challenged, looking him square in the eye. Sherlock glared at her.

"It could be dangerous." Sherlock told her. She shrugged. "You could get hurt." She shrugged once more. "John, tell her." He whined.

"She can come if she wants to. She might be able to help." John reasoned. "Besides, I don't want to leave her on her own. The flat is obviously easy to break into. It's been bugged with a million camera's." He rolled his eyes.

"Five! Five camera's." Sherlock corrected, following John down the street without glancing at Claudia.

"Taxi!" John shouted. They all climbed in the black cab as it pulled up. Sherlock gave the driver the directions and they set off.

"What's the plan of action?" John asked Sherlock. Claudia was sat in the middle of them both.

"Charge in, see who's there. Claudia might recognise Matt, if she doesn't, we assume anyone in the house is employed by him." Sherlock shrugged. "You're going to need this." He handed Claudia a gun. She looked at it like a bomb.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" She asked, taking it between two fingers.

"Don't hold it like that!" John exclaimed, inhaling deeply as she almost shot the floor. He took it from her. He then told her how to hold it properly and how to shoot.

"Let's hope you don't need it." John said, kissing the top of her head.

"What if I shoot the wrong person?" She asked, worried.

"We can call it self defence." Sherlock shrugged. John nodded in agreement. When they reached the place, Sherlock threw a wad of cash at the driver and they all stepped from the cab.

They glanced up at the large house they found themselves at. It was four stories high, and looked incredibly new and expensive. It had large windows, overlooking the city. Claudia couldn't see Matt being able to afford a place like that.

Sherlock walked to the front door and tried the handle. Locked.

"I don't see why you bother with front doors." John hissed, leading them through to the back. "They're always locked." He complained. Sherlock looked around for a way in, before his eyes rested on an open window. Bathroom window, by the looks of it- with frosted glass.

"Bingo." He said. He looked for a route up to the second floor where the open window was. A fire escape ladder, folded up. Sherlock jumped for it, caught it, and pulled it down. Claudia smiled, feeling very much like she was in an action movie.

Sherlock made sure it was stable before motioning for John and Claudia to go ahead. John went, and then Sherlock, with Claudia at the bottom. They all climbed through the window and found themselves in a large and grand bathroom.

"Let's keep moving." Sherlock whispered, going to the bathroom door and opening it. The hallway was grander than the bathroom, which is odd for a hallway. "We'll split up. I'll go downstairs, John, you search here, Claudia third floor." Sherlock ordered. Claudia nodded. Normally, she would have said no, but she wanted to impress Sherlock. She wanted to go on more adventures with him. And if that meant searching a floor for her crazed ex-boyfriend, then so be it. She clutched the gun carefully, holding it like John taught her, and walked to the spiral staircase.

"Be careful." John hissed. She nodded and waved him and Sherlock off.

The staircase wasn't that big, but she didn't know what was at the top, making it seem to go on for an eternity. At the top, the lights were off and she could see absolutely nothing.

She felt the walls for a light switch, holding her breath as she did so. She found it and the lights flickered on. She walked down the long, cream hallway, gun pointed out in front of her. She found the first door, and tentatively opened it. A bedroom. Nobody was in it. It was neat and tidy. A man's bedroom, but a neat man. Not Matt. She closed the door and continued walking through the hallway. The next door she opened was clearly an office of some sort. An expensive looking computer, CCTV equipment and various stacks of paperwork. But nobody there. Again, she shut the door and continued walking. She glanced at the expensive art on the walls as she walked past, everything full of grandeur and money. She opened the third door, peeking into the darkness. She reached inside and turned the light on.

What she saw made her scream.

Nothing. Nobody on the first floor. The only sounds Sherlock could hear were the footprints of John and Claudia. John's heavy and confident feet, moving quickly through the floor upstairs. And Claudia's lighter, more tentative footsteps, moving slowly through the third floor.

But then he heard the scream. It resonated through the whole silent house. He heard John sprint to the stairs and bound up them. He did the same, sprinting to the second floor and then the third. He pulled the safety of his gun and aimed it in front of him.

He could see John pull Claudia away from a room and guide her down the hall, obviously trying to lead her away from a disturbing sight. He looked pale himself. He nodded at Sherlock, who then continued down the hall, gun still outstretched.

He peeked into the room to find an awful sight.

A young girl, around Claudia's age, was swinging from the ceiling. She hadn't committed suicide, the rope she was hung on wasn't a noose. It was tied around her legs, and she was upside down. Her throat had been slit and the blood was slowly draining from her corpse. Sherlock frowned, moving further into the room and peering for clues.

Footprints on the floor, hand prints on the walls. Blood samples everywhere, obviously. And there, on the floor, a small, black hair.

"Call Lestrade!" Sherlock yelled. "Tell him to bring a samples kit!"

"Already done it!" John shouted back. Sherlock listened to try and hear whether Claudia was crying or not, but she wasn't. He could just hear heavy breathing. He felt proud of her- she wasn't reacting badly. Although it wouldn't have been a bad thing if she did.

Sherlock peered once more around the room, before finding an obvious clue. A note, in the girls pocket of her jeans. Sherlock walked to her, careful not to stand in any blood or evidence he could use. He plucked the note from the pocket and opened it up.

_My Dearest Claudia Watson,_

_I will not stop until I get what I want. Darling Melissa just didn't see it coming. I pretended to be you, my dear, I pretended to want to make amends with her. Sent her this address. This morning, she was ready to apologise for sleeping with me- only to find her little throat slit._

_Come to me, Claudia, or it will happen to the Doctor and the Idiot too. _

_M._

Sherlock pocketed the note and left the room, deciding to wait for Lestrade until he took drastic measures. He walked to Claudia and handed her the note, thinking it best she read it. He watched her carefully as she read it over and over again, until she scrunched it into a ball and threw it to the floor.

"Melissa was my best friend." She whispered. John has his arm around her, and she leaned her head against his chest.

"John, please will you check the fourth floor?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm not leaving her." John refuted.

"I'll be fine. Sherlock needs to wait for Lestrade. I'll stay with him." Claudia assured him, pulling away from his embrace and leaning against the clean white wall. John looked conflicted, before he nodded and ran for the stairs.

"Sorry you had to see that. If I'd have known there would be something like that I would have locked you in at 221B." Sherlock said quietly. Claudia glanced at him. He was apologizing?

"You would have locked me in?" Claudia asked coarsely.

"Yes. You have to argue with everything I saw don't you." Sherlock sighed. "I was trying to make you feel better!" He exclaimed, exasperated.

"I know. I was joking." Claudia whispered to him. She closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall. "He said if I don't go to him he's going to do the same to you and John." She sighed. "I'm going to have to go."

"Are you now?" Sherlock asked. "And what if John and I can look after ourselves?" He asked.

"I can't take that chance." She sighed, chest heaving. "If he wants me that much, that he's willing to kill you both, how can I stand back and let him do that?" She asked, opening her eyes and looking at him- asking him for answers. Sherlock didn't reply. He didn't know what to say.

The door below them burst open and Lestrade and a few of his men stormed into the house.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade called.

"Up here!" Sherlock called down. They both heard them running up the stairs.

"What is it? What's happened?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock simply led him to the room.

"Oh, Jesus." Lestrade gasped, walking from the room. He put his hand to his mouth and began pacing the hallway. "Why are you even here, Sherlock?" He asked.

"Tracking a suspect. Someone at this address keeps planting CCTV cameras in our flat." Sherlock explained. Lestrade sighed.

"Get an ambulance, and more men. Get Donovan. And Anderson." Lestrade told an officer.

"Oh, not Anderson." Sherlock sighed. "He doesn't work with me!" He exclaimed, frustrated. Lestrade didn't even reply.

"Miss Watson, are you okay?" He asked. She nodded meekly, not opening her eyes again. "Where's John?"

"He went to check upstairs." Claudia muttered. Lestrade motioned for a couple of men to find him. They came back down a minute later with John.

"Nothing there." John said, going back to Claudia and resuming their previous stance- with his arm around her and her head on his chest.

They soon heard the sirens of an ambulance and the sound of a table being wheeled upstairs. The paramedics rushed into the room, untied Melissa and put her on the stretcher, covering her body with the usual white blanket. It was stained with blood in a minute. When they wheeled her out, a limp, white hand fell from the side of the stretcher, and Claudia rushed to the nearest bathroom which was further down the corridor. John rushed after her, with gritted teeth. Thankfully, they'd shut the bloody door.

He held her hair back and rubbed her back as she threw up, and then he hugged her as she finally began to cry and break down.

Meanwhile, Lestrade handed Sherlock and Anderson their samples kit and the two were allowed in the room. Anderson was the only one wearing the blue body suit.

Sherlock immediately began scraping samples from the floor and putting them in petri dishes, getting blood with a dropping pipette and putting it in a test tube, and finally picking that black hair up and putting it in another test tube.

"You have to leave things for us at Forensics too." Anderson chided. Sherlock shrugged.

"There's some blood under your foot. I thought you wanted to step in blood so I thought it best not to tell you." He shrugged, before locking his samples away, faking a smile and leaving Anderson to do it.

"Bloody nuisance." They all heard him cuss before Sherlock slammed the door shut. "Where are my Watson's?" He asked, looking around. "I think it's best that we all leave."

"Bathroom." Lestrade said, pointing down the hall. He was talking avidly on the phone, and he looked quite pale.

Sherlock walked down the hall to the bathroom to find both Claudia and John sat side by side by the bath, staring at the white tiled wall.

"Are we ready to go?" Sherlock asked gently.  
The Watson's both nodded, and woodenly stepped up.

The trio left the murder house, two of them quite distressed. One of them nonplussed.

Claudia knew that she'd have to talk soon. She'd have to talk to the police, about Melissa, and why they where at the deemed murder house. She just couldn't face it. Yes, Melissa had slept with Matt when they were still together, but they'd been best friends since childhood. Even John had met her. She simply led on the couch and listened to her music, knowing full well that blasting out Oasis was annoying Sherlock, who was trying to work. What she found admirable, however, was that he hadn't told her to turn it off. He simply sighed a few times- but that was different than telling someone to turn it off. She watched him work, humming along to a few songs.

Unknown to her, the reason Sherlock hadn't told her to turn the music off was that he liked the sound of her singing/humming. It was quite a calming sound to him, it helped him work. As he tested each substance, each chemical he could, he found himself smiling through his microscope.

_Where were you while we were getting high? Someday you will find me, caught beneath the landslide, in a champagne supernova in the sky._


	11. Claudia's Turning Point

"It's good to see you Mrs Miller." Claudia said, her face tear stained and mascara clad.

"Good to see you too, Claudia dear. I just can't believe it." Mrs Miller, Melissa's mother, replied. She looked haggard. Her black hair, usually wavy and thick, was straight and flat to her face. She had no make-up on, so her puffy eyes and discoloured cheeks were even more prominent. She was wearing a simple black pant suit, as compared to Claudia's black dress. Claudia's heart went out to her. She threw her arms around the woman.

"Neither can I. It's just awful." Claudia cried, burrowing her head in the familiar woman's neck. Mrs Miller was like a mother to Claudia. As well as her own mother, she'd grown up with her. And she'd just lost her child- she needed the support of a daughter.

Behind her, Sherlock and John looked uncomfortable in their black suits. They were both wearing white shirts and black ties. Sherlock had his hands clasped behind his back, and he was looking at the mourning people with distaste. John, however, was carrying Claudia's jacket for her. They very much looked like a brother and a boyfriend to an outsider, and that's all Sherlock got all day.

Tearful friends of Claudia trying to lighten the mood and ask how long she and Sherlock had been together. They'd only get more tearful at the sharp comment Sherlock would leave them with. And John was stood by his side, shaking his head.

"They are mourning, Sherlock." John chided.

"I don't see why we have to be here." Sherlock hissed.

"To support Claudia." John hissed back, hitting Sherlock's arm with frustration before going to find his sister again. Sherlock, as to avoid the small group of girls fawning over him, had to join them both.

"Claudia, would you please tell those girls to stop staring at me." Sherlock asked.

"Tell them yourself. You tell me all the time." Claudia replied, smiling gently through tearful eyes.

They were at the wake of Melissa Miller's funeral. They were simply waiting for the coffin to arrive. The ground was dug up waiting and all it needed was the wooden box.

Sherlock hadn't attended many funerals, despite dealing with death on an almost daily basis. They weren't his thing. John knew that better than anyone. It wasn't unusual for the detectives to turn up to the funeral of the deceased, but John was the only one of the pair who ever went to them. He thought it a sign of respect to turn up to the funeral- even if he did spend the day on his own.

That's why John found it odd that Sherlock turned up to this funeral. Was it purely for Claudia? Or was it more than that? Was he worried about her?

Whatever was on that piece of paper that he handed to her at the murder house, he had been protective over Claudia. And the way he kept glancing in her direction scared John, it was almost as if he was checking she was still there. It unnerved him.

There was a revving noise behind them. The hearse and the coffin. Everyone bowed their head in respect – including Sherlock - and the funeral continued.

The after party was just as painful as the funeral, in Sherlock's opinion. Just people eating and crying.

He and Claudia were sat next to each other, while John was talking to an old family friend that has gone to the funeral.

"I'm getting bored, Claudia." Sherlock said, as almost a warning to her. Claudia looked at him fondly.

"Do you want to go home?" She asked. He nodded. "Me too." She sighed. She stood up and took her shoes from Sherlock, who'd been holding them for her. She slipped them on and went to find John. She came back moments later without John, saying that John would get a cab behind them.

"Let's go then." Sherlock said, putting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her through the throngs of people and out the door. If people didn't think they were together before, they did then.

Outside it was cool, as compared to the heat inside. Claudia began to shiver, regretting only wearing a sleeveless black dress and heels. As they walked to the cab allotment, Sherlock sighed and handed her his blazer, leaving him only wearing his shirt and tie. She draped it over her shoulders and smiled at him through her lashes.

"Thanks. You know, for a sociopath, you've been nice company today." She told him as they walked. Sherlock put his hands in his pockets.

"Always invite a sociopath to a funeral." He joked, smirking to himself. Claudia laughed at him as Sherlock looked to hail a cab, if one would just drive past. They both stood on the pavement, waiting for a cab to go by.

"No, I really mean it Sherlock. You were better company than John today. I just needed someone who wouldn't be asking me if I was OK all the time, you know?" She asked. She looked up at him and before she could even react, he'd pressed his lips to hers.

With his hands still in his pockets, he kissed her somewhat awkwardly but sweetly, the kiss of someone who didn't kiss people very often. Claudia, obviously, retaliated as every girl would. She put her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. But it was Sherlock, she realised, he'd never let her do that. Much to her surprise, his hands moved from his pockets to her waist, keeping her in the perfect position.

And just at that moment, a cab pulled up for them both. Claudia pulled away, shocked. Sherlock put his hands back in his pockets and climbed in the cab. He left the door open for Claudia but she shut it behind him. Sherlock shrugged, figuring that she'd just be getting the next cab to save awkwardness. She waved a goodbye and walked back into the function room, or so he thought.

Instead, she pulled out her mobile and typed furiously into it, grateful that she had Sherlock's blazer to keep her warm.

She waited for the reply to her message with folded arms, and she bit nervously at her tingling lips. Sherlock kissed her, and she'd probably never see him again.

The text came through to his phone and a small smile spread across his face. His threat had worked. But just because he'd given her an ultimatum, i.e., come to me now or I'll kill your brother and Sherlock, didn't mean he wouldn't still do it. Yes, she was going to meet him. But he still had assassins all over the city, ready to snap with a click of his fingers. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson would be dead by the end of the month, he was sure of it.

"Now to get rid of my least favourite alias, and come clean." He muttered to himself, in his distinct Irish accent. He was glaring at CCTV footage of Sherlock walking into 221B on his own.

_My sweet, you've made me the happiest man alive. I'll get someone to pick you up._ He replied.

_Screw that, _He texted back a minute later, _I'm coming to pick you up._

The simple statement that Matt was going to pick her up sent a shiver down her spine. This was once a man she loved, who loved her back, and who she was in a happy relationship with. But now, he was the man who was twisted, and employed assassins and murderers to kill her friends. This was the man who threatened to kill John and Sherlock.

And she knew Sherlock would figure it out eventually. That she wasn't going back to Baker Street again. And he probably wouldn't understand why, when he and John could apparently look after themselves. But it wasn't a risk she could take. Those two men were the most important people in her life, and probably the most brilliant in the world. If they died, then so would she.

But they didn't have to die. They could continue living if Claudia could just sacrifice her happiness, which didn't seem a hard thing to do at the time.

So she waited dutifully for Matt to pick her up, on the street corner in Sherlock's blazer. She didn't know that this simple event would shape the rest of her life forever. This simple act of waiting for Matt would change everything. Nothing would be the same again, and she could never change her life back. It was the turning point of Claudia. She'd been in the light, the happiness and the warmth at Baker Street, and now she was delving into the dark, troubled and worrisome future with Matt. Her relationships with her brother, Sherlock and everyone she had ever known would change at that point, and she wouldn't know it until it was too late.

It was Claudia's choice, and she had chosen the darkness for the sake of an angel.

When Sherlock walked into the flat, he was well aware that someone was watching him on CCTV. The camera on the street opposite was moving, following his every footstep. He shook his head and slammed the door behind him, glaring intently at the camera as he did so. He patted his pockets for his phone, only to realise that his phone was with Claudia in his blazer pocket. He sighed and grabbed the land line, dialling his number to see where she'd gone.

She answered his phone after two rings.

"Hello?" She asked, sounding weary.

"Claudia, where are you?" He asked. He heard her intake of breath.

"I'm coming now." She lied, and Sherlock knew she was lying.

"Are you really?" He asked, going to the window and gazing out at the dark street below. She hung up on him, and he gritted his teeth. He should have insisted she gone with him in the cab. Was it because he kissed her? Was that the final straw for her? He knew he shouldn't have done- he didn't even know why he _did_ kiss her. He didn't seem to think when he did it, he just let instinct take over. And it seemed his natural instinct was to kiss her. He shook his head and bit his thumbnail.

"Why don't people listen to me, ever?" He asked his skull friend. "I told her, I told her that John and I can handle ourselves. But does she listen? No. She takes things into her own hands and thinks she'd be better off with a psychopath than me." The last sentence he blurted out surprised him. But wasn't _he_ a psychopath? God knows Donovan had told him enough times. "Ah, well sod her. We're better off without her anyway. You, me and John. The way it's supposed to be." Sherlock said as he collapsed on his couch, hands pressed in a prayer under his chin and his eyes closed.

When John got home that night, he was surprised to find Sherlock in his thinking position. He hadn't seen him like that since way before Claudia arrived.

"Hey." He said, throwing a cushion at him. Sherlock cracked an eye open for John's benefit. "Come on, saline time." He said. Sherlock groaned and followed him into the kitchen like he usually did.

As John tended to the wound, Sherlock was deadly silent, knowing that John would be furious when he realised that Claudia had gone.

"Where's Claude?" John asked nonchalantly, frowning at the healing wound.

"With Matt." Sherlock replied. John almost choked, looking up at Sherlock.

"What?!" He demanded.

"She said she was getting the cab behind me, but she didn't. She's gone to him because he threatened us." Sherlock replied simply, as if it wasn't bothering him at all.

"Sherlock!" John shouted. "She could be dead in the morning! Do you ever think at all? You say you're intelligent, you try to make out you're a genius, but it doesn't matter when you don't act like a human!" John yelled, dropping everything on the floor and rushing out of the flat.

"Bloody dramatic Watson's." Sherlock said, but inside, his heart was beating two times faster and his breathing was noticeably heavier. He was worried about her too.

The black car pulled up to where Claudia was standing and her side of the car's door opened. She climbed in and shut it behind her. And there he was. The man she'd been running from for weeks.

"Matt..." She began, but he silenced her with a finger. She did so.

"I expect you to call me James, now, my dear. Or Jim." He told her in his Irish accent.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because that's my name!" He shouted, smiling as he did so. Claudia shrunk into her seat. He was worse than before. "Now, my love, I want you to tell me you're sorry for leaving me." He said, quietly but in a higher pitch of voice.

"I'm sorry." Claudia whispered. Jim smiled, and stroked her cheek.

"There. Now everything's going to be great." He said, before pulling out of the carpark and speeding away.

"We're not going to the murder house, are we?" Claudia asked. Jim laughed.

"Is that what you call it?" He asked. Claudia nodded. He started laughing more, not crazed, not unusual, a gentle and nice laugh. It was like the old him, Matt. So much so that Claudia found a smile on her face. There was no nastiness, it was just teasing.

"You ordered for her to be killed." Claudia suddenly said, and Jim abruptly stopped laughing.

"You drove me to it." He replied, his hands gripping the wheel tighter.

"But you cheated on me." Claudia refuted, sitting straight and looking straight on at him. His jaw tightened and he refused to look at her, keeping his eyes only on the road. He didn't reply, he simply concentrated on driving them. "You do know that one of your men tried to rape me." She said casually, and Jim pulled the car to a stop.

"What?" He demanded. "Which one?!" He asked.

"The one from a few weeks ago. The murderer in the restaurant. Sherlock found him, he ran after us, he got me on the floor and tried to rape me." Claudia said, swallowing hard as she remembered the memory. And as she remembered, she thought of the hanging body of Melissa. A choked cry came from deep within. "And her... Her... Her body..." Her voice was quiet and high pitched as she fought against the tears. "My.. My best friend." Her voice broke and she put her hand over her mouth.

Jim looked conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to go and skin the man who tried to rape her, on the other he wanted to comfort Claudia. Like he used to do before she ran to Sherlock Holmes. It had to be him.

He settled for comforting her. He put his arm around her and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. If he could have seen her face, he would have seen how disgusted she looked. But she had to do it. For Sherlock and John.

"I don't think I'll be able to forgive you." She whispered.

"Well, my love, you're going to have to, or your little Sherlock will have no doctor to tend to his wounds." Jim snapped, pulling away from her and driving off again. "And that man who tried it with you is as good as dead." He barked. Claudia's face went into an emotionless expression as she sank back into the seat, thinking of what she had done.

"But you're wearing his fucking _blazer_." He suddenly hissed, looking furious. Claudia didn't bother to reply, she turned her face from him and tried to hide her tears.

She reached into her pocket as her phone began to ring. 'All You Need Is Love' by the Beatles again.

"It's John." She said, as if asking for permission. Jim nodded for her to go ahead. She answered the phone.

"John." She said, her voice sounding hollow.

"Claude, thank God. Where the hell are you? I'm going out of my mind. Are you with _him._" John asked, his voice sounding thick like he'd been crying.

_Where were you while we were getting high?_

"Yes." Claudia replied. "I'm sorry. I just can't talk right now." She told him, and Jim smiled, clutching the wheel tighter. He let a hand go, and it crept to her knee and stayed there, almost as a support system. Like he was keeping her from crying, when really it was the opposite.

_Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannon ball._

"Claudia, please. Please. If it's something I've done, if I've hurt you or annoyed you, you don't have to go with him. If it's Sherlock, Christ, he can't change, Claudia! He is who he is and you have to live with it. He doesn't mean anything he says." John cried, the real tears pouring from his eyes.

"Tell him it's his fault. Sherlock's fault." Jim muttered.

_Some day you will find me, caught beneath the landslide, in a champagne supernova in the sky._

"It's him. I can't live with him anymore. He'll drive me crazy. I'd end up killing him." Claudia said.

_Wipe that tear away now from your eye._

"Claude. Please don't do this. You're my baby sister, and I will not have him hurt you. He's killed people, Claudia. Melissa, he hired someone to kill Melissa." John told her, begging with her to return. "Move out, fine. If you can't stand Sherlock, you move out. You live somewhere else. You don't have to go back to that dick!" John shouted, devastated.

_How many special people change? How many lives are living strange?_

"I just can't." Claudia said. "I'm sorry."

"Hang up." Jim murmured, and she did so. She threw the phone to the floor in horror and exhaled deeply. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair once more, pushing Jim's hand from her leg. She felt exhausted.

Jim sighed and turned the radio on.

Champagne Supernova by Oasis blasted out. He went to turn it over but Claudia batted his hand away, keeping it on. She even turned it up, so much so that all thoughts of John, Sherlock and Jim were erased from her mind and all she could focus on were the words.

I don't know if you can tell how much I love Oasis? I want Champagne Supernova to be kind of Claudia and Sherlock's song, because it's like my favourite song EVER. So there you go. Go and listen to it if you haven't already heard it :-)

Also, MAJOR PLOT TURN. How many of you were expecting that? And did you guess that Matt was Moriarty? I hope I left enough clues... Or maybe it was just too obvious that everyone already knew, haha. Ah well. Hope you've liked my THREE UPDATES IN ONE DAY. It's exciting me now.

-Fay x


	12. James 'Jim' Moriarty

Sherlock had listened to the phone call, had heard John's anguished pleading, his tortured tears. He'd listened to him begging Claudia to return, but Sherlock knew Matt had been there – telling her what to say most likely.

He watched as John lowered the phone and threw it onto the couch, before turning to Sherlock with a look of anger.

"It's because of you. You drove her back to him. I asked you Sherlock! I... I asked you to.. And now she's gone! She's not coming back!" John yelled, his voice wobbling and breaking like it had done on the phone.

"Well she's going to have to. She's got my phone." Sherlock shrugged, as if he truly wasn't bothered about Claudia- only the whereabouts of his precious phone. John laughed incredulously.

"He could kill her. He's a psychopath. And all you're bothered about is your... Your phone." John demanded, exhaling deeply through his nose. Sherlock looked at him and shrugged, walking to his desk and logging onto the laptop.

"What do we _do_, Sherlock?" John asked, turning around to watch him. Sherlock shrugged again.

"If she wants to go with him, let her." He said.

"What, let him kill her or something?" John demanded. "I'm going to his house." He said, deciding to take action. He grabbed his jacket and put it on, marching outside with intent. Sherlock sighed and followed him, running down the stairs and grabbing John's arm.

"He hasn't taken her there." Sherlock said.

"How do you know?" John demanded.

"It would be too obvious. She texts him telling him she wants to get back with him, so he drives her away so she can't find her way back. He doesn't take her to that house- we'd find her." Sherlock tutted, as if John was being an idiot.

"Well where the hell is she?!" John shouted, getting more and more worked up. Sherlock led him into the flat and to the laptop.

"I don't have her phone inputted on here, but I've got my phone. Which she has. It's just a simple procedure of tracking it- like you did to the Woman in Pink's phone. I'm waiting for the results." Sherlock explained. John smiled.

"Why didn't you tell me you were looking for her?" John asked.

"I'm not looking for _her. _I'm looking for my phone. There's some important details on there." Sherlock lied, lying to both himself and John. John's smile faded but he settled for leaning on the desk and waiting for the results.

"She's still in his car." Sherlock said, as the red dot came up on the map, moving too quickly.

"Let's go." John said, grabbing the laptop and rushing outside. Sherlock followed, not even bothering to put on his coat and scarf. The thought didn't even pass his mind. His mind was elsewhere.

Jim led Claudia into the new house, where he lived on a permanent basis. It was even bigger than the 'murder house.' It was barely smaller than a palace, or something to that extent. A mansion.

"How did you make so much money?" Claudia asked. "We were almost broke." She said.

"You don't know anything about me, dear. Matt Halder is not a person- He's just a person I pretended to be. For the entirety of our relationship, I was earning more money than you'll have in your life. Well- more than you'd have had if you hadn't have come back to me." He said, holding the door open for her. She walked inside, taking in all the plushness and beauty of a rich house.

"Can I use your bathroom?" She asked. He pointed the direction.

"Don't get lost, now." He mockingly called as she walked away from him.

Once in the bathroom, she took out Sherlock's phone. She knew they'd track her. She had to leave something for them- So she could see them again. That goodbye she'd said- it broke her heart. She had to see them again.

She opened the phone's note app. _25__Th__ March, Havelock Cafe, Next to Mycroft's office. 1pm. -CW. __See. You've got me doing the initial thing too._

She smiled and clicked off the note app. She then went onto the pass-code entry, and typed in the pass-code of 1303, so that if Jim got to the phone before Sherlock, he wouldn't find her little note. She then turned the phone off and put it back in her pocket, smiling, satisfied.

A loud knock on the door made her smile even more. They'd found her already. She checked her appearance, wiped the mascara stains from her face and walked out of the bathroom. Time to pretend that she was in love with 'Jim' – all to stop him from killing them both. Jim was stood right outside the door.

"I think that's your lovely little brother, should I shoot him now or save it for later?" Jim asked her, smiling sweetly.

"You're not shooting him at all." Claudia snapped, pushing his gun down. He raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Either you tell them how much you want to stay with me, or dearest Johns gets a bullet in his head." Jim said quietly, in a sing song voice. He stroked her face with his gun. "And I'll be listening. Claudia, my angel, don't call me by my name. Do not say my name or I'll have to shoot you." He said, taking his leave and running up the stairs.

Claudia walked to the door and opened it. John and Sherlock were pointing their guns at her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, sighing. John put his gun down. She wanted to tell him- she wanted to tell them both that she wanted to go back to 221B, where it felt safe, where she felt loved. But she couldn't. She wanted to tell them that she was keeping them safe, in the only way she could.

"We're taking you back home. Where is he?" John demanded. Claudia ignored him, well aware that Jim was listening.

"Here, you can have your blazer back." Claudia said, looking pointedly at a pocket when she passed it over. She knew he'd crack the code, and she knew he'd find her note. She thought that she might as well help him out a bit. "I should have left a **note**, I know. I just had to leave. I can't stay there anymore, and I want to be here." She explained. "I'm sorry. I'll see you around John." She said, and closed the door, after winking at them both. She sighed and leaned against the door.

She opened her eyes only to find Jim stood in front of her, smiling. He moved closer to her, so that his lips were by her ear.

"Did you mean it?" He whispered. She didn't answer- she didn't have time to, for he'd attacked her lips with his own, forcing himself onto her and holding her hands by her sides so she couldn't move. She whimpered and he backed off, seemingly angry with himself for scaring her.

"You don't have to be scared of me." He said in his simpering voice. "As long as you don't see those apes again, I can forgive you for everything you've done." He laughed. "Grand tour? I think it's time for the grand tour." He took her hand but she wriggled out of it, opting to just follow him around the house instead.

That evening, as Claudia lay in her bed (Jim had actually thought to give her her own bedroom), her mind was swimming with thoughts of what they'd been doing back at home. Had they found her little note? Would they be there? She thought if it was close to work, she could sneak in the café without anyone noticing. She'd taken into account the fact that Jim may spy on her, which is why being nearer to Mycroft made her feel safer. Mycroft was the king of spying on people, as he practically was the government and had a fondness for CCTV cameras.

She sighed, not liking the silence. She fished her iPod out of her bag and set it on the speakers that Jim had set up in her room. It was as if he'd known all along that she'd go back to him. Everything she'd left at their old flat had been moved into this bedroom, and oddly, she felt at home.

But she wasn't at home. Her home was with John and Sherlock at Baker Street, and she'd chosen to live elsewhere, with a maniac.

She switched the volume right up, figuring that the house was big enough that wherever Jim was, he wouldn't be able to hear the music. She then pressed play and sank back into the plush bed, gazing out of the window and watching London.

Her bedroom door suddenly burst open and Jim walked in, dressed only in a white t-shirt and boxers. He'd been asleep.

"Are you going to turn that down?" He asked, sounding mad. Claudia didn't reply. "You can't keep treating me like this." He said, his voice raising at the end of his sentence. "You just can't." He shook his head. "Words fail me." He said, kicking the door with his heel and walking out of her room, letting the door slam behind him.

Sherlock took his phone from his pocket and tried to unlock it, but there was a pass-code. He immediately turned the phone off and held it under the light. 1, 3 and 0 had been touched. Of course. The date she had moved in with them. 13Th March. He typed it in and sure enough, the phone unlocked. She had wanted him to see something on his phone. She'd winked at them, she'd patted the phone through his pocket.

_Note. _

He clicked on the notes app.

_25th March, Havelock Café. Next to Mycroft's office. 1pm. -CW. See. You've got me doing the initial thing too._

Sherlock smiled, the clever girl.

"John!" He exclaimed. "Forget everything Claudia said. We're back on." He held up his phone as a sort of triumph.

"She's coming back?" John asked hopefully.

"Of course not. Don't you see? She's doing it to keep us safe. He threatened her. Did I forget to tell you? Doesn't matter now- she's rebelling against him. She's meeting us, she left me a note." He said.

"Or it's all a clever trick by Matt, and he's going to meet us, and shoot us in the head." John snapped.

"You know it's her." Sherlock tutted, sitting back down and glaring at John for ruining his good mood. "And he's not going to hurt a hair on her body. She means too much to him now." He explained. John sighed.

"I don't quite believe all this has happened." He grumbled. "And I've got you making false promises all the time. Just leave it." He snapped. Sherlock glared at him again and sat back in his chair.

"What could she want?" Sherlock asked himself. "Maybe she simply wants to see you. Maybe she left, having to say goodbye in the most horrible way she could, and she had to see you again." He mused. "Or maybe she wants us to help her escape." He continued.

"Sherlock!" John yelled. "Just... Shut up." He said, more calmer. Sherlock glanced at him.

"Maybe she wants to leave the country." He said. John stood up and left the room, going to sleep in his bed that Claudia had been using for the past month.

A few of her things were scattered around on the floor. A few bits of clothing, her hairbrush, a few lipsticks and eye shadows. It felt like she should be sleeping there, not John.

Jim had lavished her with gifts. Expensive gifts. Designer suits for work, an incredible wardrobe of expensive gowns and dresses, skirts and tops. It seemed that he'd been collecting a wardrobe for her for weeks. And he'd pretty much left her alone- the only time he spoke to her was when she got back from work. She was surprised he actually _let_ her work, but she was glad he did.

The 25th soon rolled by, and she found herself sitting in the Havelock cafe, playing with her empty coffee cup and waiting. And then the door opened and _he _walked in. Sherlock. She stood up and looked at him, feeling at home. He sat down at her table. He looked at her expectantly and she laughed.

"What?" She asked, feeling ten times more relaxed now that he was there.

"I'm guessing you dragged me here for a reason." Sherlock said, waiting.

"I just wanted to see you. Where's my brother?" She asked.

"In bed. He didn't want to come. He thought it was all a clever little lie by Matt." Sherlock said.

"Well, next time tell him to come." Claudia said.

"You think this will happen every week?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. Claudia nodded.

"I can keep you safe, but I can't keep away from you." She confessed. He smirked. "I mean... Not just you. My brother... Obviously." She said awkwardly. He coughed and hid his smile.

"Expensive suit, expensive make-up, new perfume. He's been treating you." Sherlock said dryly. "And you've been liking it."

"It's not that. If I don't use it he'd get offended and God knows what he'd do then." She sighed. "Look at this." She said, pushing her jacket aside and showing him the locket she was wearing. On the back 'JM' was engraved in fancy writing. "He told me to wear this at all times, or he'd know."

Sherlock wouldn't stop staring at the locket.

"JM?" He asked, taking it and staring at it, his face inches from her chest. Claudia blushed.

"Jim... Something. I don't even know his last name. Apparently, Matt had been an alias." She laughed sarcastically.

"Jim Moriarty." Sherlock breathed. "I've got to go. It's been lovely seeing you." He said quickly, and she knew he was acting. He jumped from his seat and walked to the door, looking behind him once as a goodbye to Claudia and then jumping into a cab.

Moriarty? Claudia suddenly felt somewhat nauseous. Her brother had told her about Moriarty. How he'd strapped a bomb to his chest and Sherlock had saved him. A criminal mastermind, intent on _burning _Sherlock.

Her phone buzzed and she took it out.

"Next Monday. Same time, same place. -SH'

She smiled, feeling ten times safer knowing that Sherlock knew. She deleted the text in case Jim found it, but made a mental note to remember.


	13. The Odd Day

Moriarty. It all made sense. Threatening them at the pool, promising to burn the heart out of Sherlock. It added up. He did some background research, found out that John had another sister other than Harry. Claudia Watson. Pretty, intelligent (sometimes) and talented. The perfect girl to taunt Sherlock with.

Moriarty's plan was to date Claudia, then make her so distraught that the only possible resolution would be to go and live with her big brother for a short while. Whilst living with said brother, she'd meet Sherlock Holmes. Commence the falling for Claudia stage? He wasn't sure whether it had worked but he had the desire to kiss her quite a few times. The last time Sherlock had wanted to kiss her was at that stupid café. Next was the plan to burn Sherlock. To burn his heart.

Kill Claudia?

He bloody well hoped that wasn't next in his plan.

All Sherlock had to do was figure out how to stop it from happening. Tell John? No. John had intense emotions, he'd get in the way and let his heart rule his brain. He'd tell John he'd gone to meet her, and she'd told them to stay away from her. A lie. To John. But it was for the best.

Now. To continue seeing Claudia? Also probably for the best. The more he saw her, the more clues and inside knowledge he could ascertain. She could be his little spy. That idea he liked. Sherlock would be doing the spying for once.

He didn't yet know what Moriarty wanted, but he knew he'd find out soon enough.

"How was work, my darling?" Moriarty asked, and Claudia glared at the coat rack she hung her parka on.

"Boring." She replied.

"I don't know why you insist on working for Mycroft Holmes. I've got all you could ever want here." He said, in a horribly nice way that made her stomach churn. Now that she knew who Jim was and what he wanted to do, the thought of him made her feel nauseous. What she'd give to be back at Baker Street.

What she was giving to keep her brother alive.

They met again, same time and same place- as Sherlock had instructed.

"I need you to do something for me." Were his first words to her.

"What?" She asked, smiling as his lack of conversation. Smiling at him being just himself.

"I need you to wait until he goes out, or he's asleep, and let me in the house." Sherlock said quickly. Claudia laughed.

"Are you joking? Or just crazy?" She demanded. "He has camera's wired up all over that house. He has assassins trained to shoot on sight of _you._" She told him. He smiled.

"Don't you know me, Claudia? I'm not stupid- I will find a way of getting inside." He promised. "But I need to get in. Unless you're willing to rifle through his documents." He suggested.

"Already tried. All on a laptop with a pass code." She shrugged. "I can set them, I can't crack them." She told him, referring to the password she'd put on Sherlock's phone, which he still hadn't removed.

"That's why you need to let me in. I need to see what he wants." Sherlock snapped, seemingly distracted and unable to keep still.

"I can't. He'd murder you." Claudia insisted. "Anyway. You promised me my brother. Where is he?" Claudia asked.

"Hadn't told him." Sherlock said, staring at the wall with a blank look on his face.

"Why?!" She demanded, raising her voice and having to lower it again, in case people were listening in.

"Didn't want to worry him. He'd charge in there and end up dead. You know what your brother's like." He said, sounding distracted. Claudia sighed.

"I can try and find you a way in. But you'll have to be patient. He doesn't go out all that often." She said. "Unless he goes out when I'm working." She shrugged.

"This whole thing was rather clever of you, you know?" Sherlock complimented, eyeing her up and down. Claudia blushed and smiled.

"I think that's the first time you've complimented me properly." She smiled. He smirked at the table.

"Don't get used to it." He told her, and she laughed.

"Did you only want to meet up with me to use me? To get you into the house?" She teased.

"No." He said, looking her in the eye. She tilted her head to the side, asking him a silent question that he refused to answer.

"Your pendant is scuffed." He said, taking Moriarty's lavish present and looking at the side, where there were prominent nicks and scratches. Made by fingernails and a knife.

"I can't get into it. I thought the whole point of a locket is to open it and put something inside." Claudia sighed, once again having Sherlock's head inches from her chest. He reached around her neck and undid the clasp, letting the chain fall into his hand.

"No. With this, you need a specialist knife." He said. "He's hidden a clue in here. He must have." Sherlock breathed. "Do you mind if I take it?" He asked.

"He wants me to wear it all the time." Claudia said, looking worried.

"And I know why. Ah, the game is back on! He knows we'll meet up. When we do meet up, he knows I'll see the scuffed locket, and take it from you to open it. He'll know you've been seeing me. Get it?" He asked. Claudia nodded. A test of her 'faithfulness.' Whether she still had the locket or whether Sherlock had taken it.

"Right. Stay here. I'm going to get a cab to Baker Street. I'll be back in ten minutes." He promised her, handing back the locket and leaving the café quickly.

"Promise?" She called after him. He turned back and nodded. She smiled as he jumped into a cab. "I best not be sat here on my own all day waiting for him." She grumbled.

True to his word, he walked back through the doors ten minutes later. He had his specialist knife with him. He took the locket and turned it to his side, and inserted the tiny little pin needle of a knife into the lock and twisted, and the locket twisted open.

Inside was a note and a tiny little vial containing a thick red liquid.

Sherlock scanned the note.

_'I knew you'd figure it out eventually. Rather clever of me, don't you think? By now you'll know the game is back on. This is my formal letter to you, informing you that my plan to burn the heart out of you is still very much intact. In fact, it's going much better than I ever hoped for, thanks to the little Watson. _

_I suppose you're expecting a clue. I'll give you a few. It's not blood. Use your skull. Crack the code._

_Will they suffice?_

_Until next time.'_

He pocketed the note and looked into the vial. He held it up to the light.

"Looks like blood." Claudia said. He nodded.

"It's not blood." He took the locket again and locked it, so he would never know. He looked up, looking triumphant. Claudia rolled her eyes.

"I suggest you put it back on, or we will no longer be one step ahead of him." Sherlock said, pushing it over on the table. She slipped it back over her neck and did the chain up.

"Thanks, Sherlock." She said.

"For what?" He asked, glancing at her.

"For... Talking to me? I don't know. I just want to be back at home, but I can't be back at home. It's killing me." She swooned dramatically and Sherlock smiled, despite rolling his eyes at her. She sat back up and looked at him.

"I take it you're just going to go?" She asked.

"Not unless you want me to stay." He shrugged. "I could... Go to work with you." He suggested.

"Mycroft works about three feet from me." She smirked. He frowned and shook his head.

"I'm going to go." He said, standing up. He held his hand out for her to shake. She laughed at him and instead of shaking his hand, she pulled him into a quick hug. He pulled back, embarrassed, smiled slightly, and left to get another cab. Claudia followed, only to dash back into the office building next door and go back to work.

Once inside, Liam eyed her up.

"Where've you been?" He asked suggestively.

"I had lunch with a friend." She smiled.

"It wouldn't be a Mr Sherlock Holmes, would it?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and winking at her. She blushed.

"It wasn't like that." She insisted, unaware that he was texting profusely under the desk.

"Well, what was it like?" He pressed, smirking. She frowned.

"Talking. Drinking. Saying goodbye." She said, logging onto her laptop.

The next day, Claudia was at her desk and sipping some tea when a hand tapped her on the back. Thinking it would be Moriarty, or even Mycroft, she turned around. She couldn't have been more wrong. It was Sherlock. He gestured for her to follow him into his brother's office.

"Ah, my little brother. And Claudia." Mycroft said as Sherlock barged into his office with Claudia behind him. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked.

"I need you to trace something for me. For us." Sherlock said, knowing that Mycroft had taken a shine to Claudia.

"And what would that be?" Came the reply.

"Give him the locket." Sherlock ordered. Claudia took it off and handed it over. "Find out the jeweller where this locket was bought. Text me where it's from. Oh, and Claudia needs it back at the end of the day." Sherlock said, nodding to his brother before pulling Claudia out of the office and shutting the door. He grabbed her arms and bent down slightly, looking into her eyes.

"I need you to do something for me too." He said.

"What?" She whispered, his face in close proximity to hers.

"Keep yourself safe. I don't think the game involves you getting hurt. You're a player, not a piece." He said, he then ducked close to her ear. "I'll see you next Monday." He muttered, before pulling out his phone and abruptly walking back into Mycroft's office, leaving Claudia with nothing but the scent of him.

Both brothers emerged and Sherlock said his goodbye to Claudia by looking intently at her. Mycroft motioned for Liam to join him in his office.

Claudia watched as Mycroft winked at Claudia and shut the door, locking it behind him as Liam walked in. Claudia turned and walked back to her desk, but she found that Carlie and Marie were already swarmed around her chair.

"Is that your boyfriend?!" They both exclaimed. Claudia, upon picking up Sherlock's techniques, noticed that they were slightly flushed and their pupils had dilated. They liked him.

"No." She laughed.

"Well, who is your boyfriend? You haven't told us anything about him." Marie said, eyebrows raised, looking back as if looking to see if Sherlock had walked back into the office.

"Because I don't want to jinx anything." Claudia laughed shakily, lying to herself. It was already jinxed, and what would she tell them?

Yeah, the 'boyfriend' who I'm only pretending to be with to keep my brother and Sherlock alive is a criminal mastermind who killed my best friend and leaves maniac clues for detectives.

She couldn't ever say anything- she would have to be crazy.

The three girls all turned their heads abruptly to the office door when they heard a loud bang. Claudia rushed to the door and tried opening it, but it was locked.

"Mycroft?" She called, worried that something bad had happened. The door soon unlocked and opened and a smiling Mycroft opened it, blocking the view into the room.

"Yes, my dear?" He asked, looking down at her.

"I was just worried about that noise." She shrugged.

"Nothing to worry about." He assured her, but she didn't believe him. "Just managing my staff. Would you... Uh, be able to get me a coffee?" He asked. Claudia nodded and walked away, only to hear the office door slam behind her hard. She got the coffee and knocked on the door.

This time, Mycroft let her into his office.

"Where's Liam?" She asked.

"He had to go home." Mycroft said, somewhat breathlessly. Claudia looked around.

"No he hasn't. He's in the cupboard." She said, pointing to a small and almost unnoticeable trail of blood leading into the cupboard. Oh, what her brother and Sherlock had taught her about deduction.

Mycroft sighed.

"He had an accident." He lied. Claudia glared at him and opened the cupboard door. A dead Liam stared out at her, slumped over on the floor. She almost screamed but Mycroft's hand slid over her mouth to silence her.

"Claudia. He was a spy. Moriarty had hired him to spy on you and report back to him. It had to be done." Mycroft whispered, letting her go and turning her away from the cupboard. "Sherlock and I have formed a sort of... Alliance against the man. He told me sort it out, so I did. He has reason to believe that that was the man who shot him. I just made him confess." Mycroft shrugged.

"I can't believe you... Killed him." Claudia croaked.

"Would you rather go home to find Moriarty has killed your brother because Sherlock came into the office?" Mycroft hissed. "Luckily for you, I got his phone just before he was about to send his update message to _James. _Told him that nothing odd has happened instead. No need to thank me." He said smugly. Claudia sighed.

"Thank you." She said. Mycroft nodded and led her to the door. "Please be careful, Little Watson. My brother wouldn't be too happy if something bad happened to you." He said sincerely, patting her shoulder before letting her out.

Liam had been spying on her. She couldn't quite believe it. And he'd shot Sherlock. For one second, and a thought like this was odd for Claudia, she was _happy_ that he was dead. But who else was spying on her? Carlie? Marie? She no longer felt safe- instead, she felt paranoid. And it didn't help knowing that she'd had to thank _Mycroft_ for saving her back. An odd day all round.


	14. The Startled Chris Quentin

Mycroft had done Sherlock well, one of the few times he'd really pulled through when Sherlock needed him. He'd found the jewellers in under an hour, and had organised a meeting with the manager and the two Holmes brothers. If anyone could make someone talk, it was Mycroft Holmes. Plus, maybe it would give the brothers a chance to bond. Mother dearest so loved it when Mycroft made an effort with Sherlock.

And so Sherlock turned up at Mycroft's office ten minutes later, dressed in the usual long black coat and blue scarf- despite it being very summery outside. Claudia was actually only wearing a summer dress and flats- and with her pale brown (almost blonde) hair, she and Sherlock looked very contrasting when they stood next to each other.

One was tall, dark from head to foot, with calculating eyes and a smile that only appeared when he was truly pleased. The other was petite, only wearing colourful things, with large Bambi eyes and a seemingly constant smile. The exact opposite?

"Opposites attract, my dear." Mycroft muttered in her eye as she watched Sherlock walked into the office complex.

"How did you know what I..?" She asked, before catching herself and stopping herself from admitting something she didn't want to admit.

"I can see it in your eyes. Now, are you going to accompany us today?" Mycroft asked her, picking his umbrella up from the coat rack.

"To where?" She asked. Mycroft grabbed her hand, opened it up and placed the locket back in her hand. That's when Sherlock walked over to them.

"How cosy." He said coldly. Claudia frowned at him, a small smile on her face, as she did the chain up.

"Yes I will." She told Mycroft, ignoring Mr Grumpy Holmes.

"You will what?" Sherlock demanded, not yet knowing what they were talking about.

"She's coming with us." Mycroft smirked, looking at his brother in a certain way that screamed- 'I know why you're acting jealous. Because you are.'

"Oh no, she's not. I don't want her there. She'd distract me with her smile or something." Sherlock grumbled. Claudia frowned, tilting her head slightly as she stared at him.

"What, so I'm not allowed to smile now?" She demanded. Sherlock sighed.

"See! This is also why she's not coming. She's the most argumentative person I know." He argued. Claudia glared at him.

"I don't care. I'm going. Mycroft asked me, I'll just stay with him." She said. Mycroft grinned at his brother.

"Yes, Sherly. She can stay with me all day. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He asked. Sherlock glared at him. Mycroft offered his arm out to Claudia, and she took it. They then both walked outside, with Sherlock trailing grumpily behind.

Mycroft held the door of his chauffeured car open to Claudia, and climbed in after her.

"See, you don't even have to sit next to her." Mycroft smiled sneakily at his brother.

"I actually wouldn't have minded, you know." Sherlock grumbled, not yet aware that his brother was testing him. Or making fun of him. Either one worked.

Sherlock slammed the door after him and the car took off driving.

"What jewellers is it?" Sherlock asked, breaking the silence and tearing his eyes away from Claudia's faintly tanned and beachy arms.

"Chris Quentin. A very reputable jewellers. I can make him talk if need be." Mycroft assured Sherlock.

"Why wouldn't he tell us anyway?" Claudia asked. Both brothers looked at her like she was stupid.

"His life's probably being threatened by a genius evil mastermind, Claudia. He'd probably be killed if he told." Mycroft told her lazily.

"Now you understand?" Sherlock asked his brother.

"No." Mycroft replied smugly, and Claudia sighed.

"I don't know what your problem is." She leaned on Mycroft's leg to glare at Sherlock. Sherlock leaned on Mycroft's other leg to glare at her as well.

"My problem, _Claudia_, is that I wanted to deal with this without worrying about you. _Moriarty's _probably watching our every move, you know." Sherlock snapped.

"But we already knew that. And he wouldn't kill me. I'm obviously part of this 'game' now." Claudia retorted, leaning further over. Mycroft sighed at the two people arguing on his lap.

"What makes you think you're part of the game? The game is strictly between Moriarty and me." Sherlock insisted.

"You dragged John into it, and now you're dragging me into it too. So shut up and stop being rude." Claudia ordered, aware that her face was itches from Mycroft's crotch and Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock stared at her, not knowing what to reply and being oddly enticed by her mouth.

"How tense." Mycroft chuckled. They both shot back into their seats, their arms folded as they glared out of the window.

The car finally pulled up at Chris Quentin's, and Claudia was the first out of the car, still glaring at anything other than Sherlock. Sherlock was also glaring, but was openly glaring at Claudia.

"Let's put on the happy faces, people." Mycroft ordered cheerfully, his umbrella perched in the crook of his arm as he tried to reconcile the pair. "Now let's potentially torture this man until he tells us what we need to know." He grinned, swiftly turning and walked into the shop without even glancing at the pair.

As soon as Mycroft walked inside, Sherlock strode over to Claudia and put his hands on her cheeks, forcefully bringing her face to his and kissing her. Hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck in an embrace, scared that if he let go she'd fall. She could feel his heart racing through his layers, and he could feel hers through the sheer dress she was wearing.

Behind them, in the car park, a car's horn beeped. They stopped kissing and turned around, to find a dirty old man grinning.

"Oh my God, he was looking up my skirt." Claudia gasped, turning red and marching into the shop. Sherlock looked at the man for a few seconds before sticking his middle finger up at him and following her into the shop.

"Claudia, give the nice man your locket." Mycroft smiled, obviously knowing what they'd been up to. Claudia obliged, handing him the heavy locket.

The man behind the counter was wearing a sharp suit with slicked back hair and a smoothed moustache. He spoke with a posh accent, smiling smarmily at them all.

"Ah, yes. I remember this piece. Lovely. 18Ct solid yellow gold, with the clasps tightened for some reason." The man began to look slightly panicked as he remembered the man who'd bought it.

"It was to hide a message, Mr Quentin. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Mycroft asked, eyeing him up eagerly. Chris Quentin shrugged.

"Why would I know, I just sell it?" He asked, averting his eyes from the three pairs staring at him.

"What can you tell us about the man who sold it to you?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't remember him that well." Mr Quentin insisted.

"I don't believe you." Claudia said simply, watching the shifty way he was acting.

"Come with me, Mr Quentin." Mycroft said, walking behind the counter and to the screen that covered the safe from the rest of the shop.

"What was that about?" Claudia hissed.

"What?" Sherlock asked her.

"Attacking me in a car park." She replied.

"You rather enjoyed it, I'd hardly call it an attack." Sherlock retorted.

"And why would you even think I enjoyed it?" She asked.

"Quickened heart rate, dilated pupils, heavy breathing, flushed cheeks. You're not that hard to deduce, Miss Watson." He replied, looking away until he said her name. She turned away, opting not to reply.

They heard a metallic clang. "He's taken his gun out." Sherlock said, talking about Mycroft.

"Hope that's not a euphemism." Claudia grinned, and Sherlock snorted under his breath.

They then heard a panicked, "I'll tell you!" From behind the screen. Mycroft re-emerged, a small and satisfied smile on his face.

"Glad we could resolve that little problem." He said, as Mr Quentin followed him. "Now, who was the man you sold this locket to?" He asked.

"Richard Brooks." Mr Quentin replied. "He was Irish, with black hair. Quite handsome." He noted, raising one eyebrow..

"What did he say was the cause of it needing to be tightly locked?" Sherlock asked.

"A love letter." Mr Quentin replied, and Sherlock could tell that he knew the truth.

"Did he leave any contact details?" Claudia asked.

"Ah, yes." Chris Quentin said, going to a drawer behind him and pulling out a reference book. "I believe it might have been a message for you." He gulped. "He told me to leave it for the tall man with curly hair." He turned to Sherlock and passed the book to him. Sherlock scanned the page.

'_I could have figured this out in five minutes. And did you really need your brother to help you? Anyway, I'd better give you another clue. _

"_The cold hand of death can be stopped with a quick pocket watch and the correct ointment."_

_Enjoy. But don't be mistaken. This is only the beginning, to show you what I have the potential to do. You don't even know what's going to hit you._

_RB. JM.'_

"Mind if he takes this page?" Mycroft asked, watching his brother with a concerned expression. Mr Quentin shrugged, eager to get the gun yielding trio out of his refined shop. Sherlock ripped it out and stuffed it in his coat pocket, shoving the book back across the desk and marching out of the shop, Claudia right behind him. Mycroft nodded awkwardly at Mr Quentin.

"Nice to meet you." He said, before walking quickly out of there. Once gone, Chris Quentin gave a huge sigh of relief. He wasn't going to get shot after all.

Back in the car, Claudia had snatched the piece of paper and was reading it.

"The cold hand of death. What do you think it means?" She asked, looking up at Sherlock. This time, she was sat next to him.

"Don't have a clue." Sherlock replied, almost groaning, his eyes shut. "The game has only just begun and I'm already unsure of what to do." He complained, hating that he didn't know. "It could be anything. I'm assuming by 'the right ointment' he means the thing that 'isn't blood' that he mentioned in the last clue. But what isn't blood?" He asked, speaking more to himself.

"John could help." Claudia said quietly, and Mycroft was interested to see what Sherlock would reply. He'd say no. He would definitely say no. That man hates having someone to help him.

"Maybe." Sherlock allowed. Mycroft was shocked.

"Will you please tell him that we're meeting up? Ask him to come too?" Claudia begged as they pulled up outside work. Sherlock looked at her, conflicted. "Please." She asked sincerely. He shrugged, and she knew that was a yes.

"Thanks." She told him, resting her hand on his leg for a second before following Mycroft out of the car. Sherlock shook his head when the door was shut on him.

"Are you going home, Mr Holmes?" The chauffeur called from the front seat.

Use your skull. Skull. The skull. His friend.

"Yes." Sherlock said excitedly. "Ah, the game's most definitely in play!" He exclaimed. The chauffeur smiled like he understood before frowning to himself. Maybe all the Holmes' were weird.

Sherlock patted the man on the arm as a thank you as he got out of the car, and rushed inside.

"Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed when he rushed in. "I'll not tell you again- move that arm from the bath!" She shouted as he ran upstairs.

"Yes. Will you make some tea, Mrs Hudson? I'm parched." He shouted.

"Not your house keeper!" Mrs Hudson called after him.

Sherlock ignored both her and John when he rushed into the flat. John himself was eating toast. And jam, obviously.

"What's up with you?" John asked.

"The skull. It's not blood _in the skull._" Sherlock said, picking his friend up from the mantelpiece and turning it upside down. A small vial fell out, containing a deep red liquid.

"Is that blood?" John asked curiously, putting his toast down and joining his friend at the mantelpiece.

"No, John. It's _not _blood." Sherlock shook his head. "Moriarty's left us a little clue."

"What?! Where've you been?" John demanded, somewhat hurt that Sherlock had been solving crime without him,

"With Claudia and Mycroft." Sherlock shrugged.

"Claudia?! How have you been with Claudia?" John shouted. "I haven't seen her for weeks, Sherlock!"

"I did tell you to come to the café with me, we've been meeting there." Sherlock said patiently. "She actually reminded me today to tell you that she's fine and she wants to see you.

"I can't bloody believe you sometimes." John snapped, picking his toast up and storming into his bedroom.

"Got enough jam on there?!" Sherlock shouted back, his form of attack. John ignored him and slammed his bedroom door.


	15. The Punch, the Poison and the Decision

"As if you could ever have enough jam." John muttered as he put the plate on his bed and got changed out of his 'lounge wear.' He instead put on a typical John outfit, jeans and a knitted jumper. He shrugged his jacket on, slid a gun into the inside pocket, got his key and left the flat without a word to Sherlock.

He stood in the middle of the street, not knowing how to find her. In the intricate web that is London, how would he find his sister?

Luckily, Sherlock walked out of the flat nonchalantly, his long black coat and blue scarf on as usual.

"Come on, John." Sherlock said, as if talking to a baby.

"I'm not going with – Yeah, okay." John sighed, knowing that he'd never win the argument.

Sherlock hailed a cab and they both got in. "I don't know why you want to see her so badly." Sherlock smirked.

"She's living with a criminal. A murderous criminal, I might add. I've been worried sick about her. And you've been seeing her all this time and decided not to tell me." John snapped. "I'm so mad at you right now I could punch you." He added.

"If you did I probably wouldn't feel anything." Sherlock quipped.

"Why?" John asked.

"You're weak." Sherlock smirked at his little joke.

"Right. Pull over." John told the cab driver, who did just that.

"Are you really being serious?" Sherlock asked him, frowning.

"Yes!" John exclaimed, getting out and opening Sherlock's door for him. Sherlock also got out, and stared at John.

"You're just worried about your sister and you think the only way you can handle the emotions you're feeling is to take them out on me." Sherlock deducted, glancing at John coolly.

"Spot on, old friend." John said, before punching Sherlock in the stomach.

Claudia answered the door, slightly worried about who'd be there. She'd gotten used to living with Jim again, and when he wanted to, he could actually be quite sweet to her.

She had to remind herself who exactly he was, what he'd done in the past and what he intended to do in the future, and she could happily ignore him for days on end.

This day, however, was not one of them.

"Who is it?" Jim called, getting his gun out of his pocket and stroking it like a puppy.

"Um.." Claudia muttered, not really knowing how to say a random name without it sounding suspicious. "Mycroft!" She spluttered, thinking that the only reasonable name she could say.

John pulled her into a tight hug and practically squeezed her to death.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed, hugging him back. "If he catches you he'll kill you. Then me." She reminded them.

"I don't care, Claude. He's a murderer and I wouldn't put it past him to kill you in your sleep. You're coming home." John insisted, grabbing her and attempting to pull her away.

"No, she's not." Sherlock said, placing his cool hand on John's and pulling him away from her. "You've seen her now, happy? We'd better leave before he realises it's us." He said.

"Oh, I knew it was you by the knock at the door, honey." Jim said, standing menacingly behind Claudia. John gritted his teeth. "I think it's impolite to try and find me whilst the game's in full swing, don't you think? Especially when I'm having a rare moment of relaxing with my girlfriend." He said, looking Sherlock square in the eye as he said it. "And Claudia, baby doll, have you been telling these bad men to come a drop a visit?" He demanded, making her face him.

"No." Claudia insisted.

"So you thought you'd lie to me, and say it's Mycroft. As if I'd believe you." He said, laughing slightly.

"Come on. Let her come home. She's my sister." John begged. He's grovel if he had to.

"No, you're okay. I think I prefer to have her close by- a pawn in the game if you will. Go inside, Claude. You don't want to hear this." Moriarty practically pushed her inside the house and shut the front door behind him. "If I find you anywhere near here again, I won't hesitate to shoot you both. Game or no game." He hissed.

Sherlock nodded coolly and began to pull John behind him, but John shrugged Sherlock's hand off of him and stood his ground.

"If you hurt one hair on her body I will shoot you in the head." John warned. "Now let me say goodbye to my sister." He demanded.

"Uh, let me think about that." Moriarty said, leaning on the door and looking as if he was thinking. "No!" He suddenly laughed, eyes wide and somewhat manic. "You want to see her, you organise it in your own time like Sherly here. It's funny watching her lie about who's she been with all day." Moriarty snapped.

"Let's pause the game for a second. Let him say goodbye, and we'll go." Sherlock promised. Moriarty sighed, pulled a face and then opened the door. He pushed Claudia to it.

John looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"John, he wanted you to come here. You think a criminal mastermind would allow his enemies to know where he lived so easily? He wants to shake you up. I know he wouldn't hurt me, so don't worry." Claudia whispered. "He wanted you to come here and taunt you." She cooed as she hugged him. John nodded.

"She's right." Sherlock added, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a gun. He handed it to Claudia. "Your gun." He said quietly, with her name in gold still enscribed on the side. "Just as you left it. Thought you might need it." He said, looking at the ground.

"You actually thought about someone?" John asked, surprised, as he turned to his friend.

"Well, I've kissed her a few times now so I thought it only right to make sure she was safe." Sherlock laughed before realising who he was talking to. Claudia's eyes had grown wide and she suddenly waved a quick goodbye and slammed the door shut, not wanting to get into an argument with her brother.

"Aw, the family." Jim called from the front room, sounding angry. Claudia hid the gun in the waistband of her skirt and then walked into the room.

"Sorry." She said quietly. "I told them not to come again." She added.

"My perfect little doll. I don't know why you don't just give in to me. Imagine what we could do. A criminal couple. We could rule the _world._" He said, exaggerating the word 'world' and making it seem more epic than it could ever be.

"No, thank you." She told him, before leaving him alone in the room and skipping upstairs, walking into her bedroom, barricading the door and putting her music on loud. She put the gun on her bedside table and sat on the bed, wondering what argument John and Sherlock would be in at that very moment.

"You kissed my sister?!" John demanded, still at the front door of Moriarty's pretend house.

"Well, yes, what did you expect?" Sherlock asked, walking away and going to hail another cab.

"You... You... Ohh, you..." John stuttered, not being able to form a proper sentence. "You kissed my sister?!" He yelled again.

"Haven't we just been through this?" Sherlock asked.

"You're an absolute bastard." John hissed, climbing into the cab next to him. "I don't believe you!" He then shouted.

"Well, believe it, John. For some reason, I find myself attracted to Claudia and I don't know why." He shrugged.

"Stop! I don't want to hear it." John yelled. Sherlock stopped and looked at him.

"I don't see why you're so bothered. It's not like I've married her." Sherlock reminded him.

"If you ever marry my sister, I promise that I'll kill you in your sleep." John muttered, and Sherlock looked out of his window and smiled. No he wouldn't. He'd probably be pleased.

The next day, Claudia awoke to find herself led down in an empty room, with while walls in, with her hands and feet tied up. Her head was also pounding incredibly hard. So hard she could barely think straight.

"Help!" She tried to shout, but nothing came out of her mouth, just a rasp that told her she needed something to drink, and fast. Her vision was slightly blurry, and she was sure she was hallucinating, or else that little bird perched on the end of her little bed type contraption was _real. _

She'd been drugged, she knew she had. And she knew exactly who'd drugged her.

She glanced at herself, making sure she hadn't been harmed. She was horrified to find a gash in her arm, quite large, and gushing quite a lot of blood. She began to feel a little queasy, someone had slashed her arm open with a knife. She couldn't quite believe her own bad luck.

And that clown laughing at her at the door of the unit wasn't helping either.

"Oh, Claudia, honey." The clown laughed. It was then that she realised it wasn't a clown, but Moriarty. "You were so sure I wouldn't hurt you. Well, the only thing that can save you now is if your little boyfriend and your big brave brother get my message in time and come and save you." He said. Claudia noticed then the man soon turned into a snake and slithered over to her.

"What have you done to me?" She rasped, her voice barely audible.

"Drugged you, tied you up and hidden you in a secret warehouse." He counted on his fingers. "Oh, and before you accuse me, no I didn't cut you. You did that yourself when you tried to fight back. You fell on a rather nasty nail on the floor. You might want to get that checked if you get out alive." Moriarty laughed. "But one last thing before I go. You were so wrong about him. I can tell what you think. He'd save you first out of everyone in the world because you've kissed him a few times. Well, you're wrong. There's a woman. A woman he hasn't told you about. A Miss Irene Adler that introduced herself to him rather spectacularly last year. And if something were to happen to her at the same time as something happened to you- who would he choose? The Beauty Queen or the Average Claudia?" He asked, looking like he was thinking hard. "Hm. Just something for you to ponder over. Oh, and one _final _last thing. He'd better hurry up and choose because that poison I've drugged you with will kill you in five hours." He said, kissing her forehead before leaving her to it. After about thirty seconds of his footsteps resonating through the empty warehouse, she heard him shut and lock the door behind him.

"Oh, my God." Claudia rasped, a tear beginning to snake down her face. "So this is how it ends." She told herself.

Sherlock's phone let out it's alert message. John glared at him. It was the sound of Irene Adler's orgasm. John stood up from the couch and went to his laptop.

"Is that Irene Adler?" John demanded. "You're kissing my sister and seeing Irene Adler?!" He demanded, getting even angrier.

"First time she's contacted me in over a year, actually." Sherlock snapped, opening it.

'_Sorry to have to break your little heart like this, Sherlock. But I've got two little scenarios for you to choose from. _

_1.) Irene Adler is trapped in an empty house, tied to a chair, and will be shot if you go to the other scenario._

_2.) Claudia has been drugged and cut quite badly, and is trapped in an empty warehouse. If you don't choose her, she will die._

_The rules are quite simple, Sherlock. I am watching you right now. Which ever scenario you go to, the other will die. If you and John split up and attempt to do both, they both die. _

_You want some clues?_

_Oh, let's forget clues for this round. _

_Irene is trappe__d in Burnley Street, third door up from the end of the street._

_Claudia is trapped at the disused warehouse up from Johnson Road, just outside London._

_And just to make it more interesting, Irene Adler has secrets you might want to know._

_Lots of love, as ever, JM.'_

Sherlock read it over a few times before wanting to trash the whole flat with frustration

"What is it?" John demanded, snatching the phone before Sherlock could stop him. He read it. "Are you even thinking about Irene? If you're contemplating saving Irene Adler I will personally kill you." He warned, deadly serious.

"But she has secrets. It might help us win the game." Sherlock reasoned quietly.

"The game?! Right now, the game doesn't matter at all! What matters is that my little sister is trapped, dying in a warehouse and she needs us!" John yelled.

"And Irene doesn't matter either, does she?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is that my sister matters more. I don't give a shit about the game, or Irene, or Moriarty, or any of this bullshit. I care about my sister." John exclaimed.

Sherlock closed his eyes, picturing Claudia stood in front of him, dressed for summer like she usually was. Short dress, bare legs, bare arms. Happy. _Alive. _"You're right." He swallowed, suddenly being drowned by a wave of emotion."As usual." He added. He picked something up from the mantelpiece before they ran out to get a cab. "Clue's don't matter. The game doesn't matter. None of it matters." He chanted as they got in the cab.

"Johnson Road. Outside London. Disused warehouse." He said quickly.

"That'll cost ya." The cab driver chuckled.

"I will pay you ten thousand pounds to get us there in less than twenty minutes." Sherlock muttered quietly and deeply from the back seat. The driver's eyes widened and he began to speed down the road.

"What did you pick up from the flat?" John asked, trying not to think of Claudia too much. If he thought about her, he'd get panicky, and then he'd be useless.

"The antidote. 'The cold hand of death can be stopped with a quick pocket watch and the right ointment.'" Sherlock quoted. "We need to get there quickly, and we need this." He said, holding the little blood red vial up. John sighed with relief. This would hopefully be easier than Moriarty was making it out to be.

"And if we finish quickly, we could try and save Irene." John spoke up. Sherlock's phone abruptly went off. He opened the text.

_'Poor little Irene Adler is lying dead with a\ bullet in her head, John. Don't be silly.'_

"She's dead." Sherlock said quickly, pocketing his phone and surprisingly feeling no emotion. Only an intense desire to get to that warehouse and save her.


	16. Holding Hands in the Sun

"As promised." Sherlock said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a huge wad of cash and throwing it at the cab driver.

"Why do you carry that much money around with you?!" John exclaimed.

"I don't usually, John. But I thought we might be in a hurry." Sherlock reasoned, and they ran out of the car and sprinted into the warehouse. Or they tried, for the door was locked.

"What do we do?" John demanded, panicking already. Sherlock rolled his eyes at his friend, adjusted his scarf, stood back and launched himself at the door, kicking it down rather well.

"Well done." Sherlock praised himself. John glared at him before they both ran into the warehouse, pulling their guns out and aiming them in case anyone tried to get in their way of rescuing Claudia.

"Claudia!" John called. There was far too many doorways in the building, it would take them ages to find her. They needed all the help they could get.

"This way." Sherlock urged, looking at a tiny and almost unnoticeable trail of blood on the floor. The two men eagerly followed the trail, every few seconds or so having to look incredibly close because the droplets were that tiny.

"Come on!" Sherlock urged as he led the way around a corner and into a room, with bare white walls and a large pool of blood on the tiled floor. On the metal bed, was Claudia strapped up, eyes wide as if seeing something in her mind.

"I've been drugged!" She yelled dramatically. "You've been ages! Four hours!" She shrieked, eyeing up the watch on her wrist.

"Oh, Claudia!" John sighed, going to her side and untying her hands and legs. She suddenly stopped, and she collapsed back onto the bed, which was pure metal and couldn't have been good for her. Her eyes closed as she convulsed slightly. Her temperature went up dramatically and her breathing was hard and erratic.

Sherlock reached into his pocket, pulled out a sterile syringe in its medical packet, and the vial of deep red antidote.

"Let's just hope he was telling the truth when he said this was the cure." Sherlock said, pulling the cap off with his teeth and filling the syringe with it. He then led Claudia's tanned bare leg down on the metal and stuck the needle in hard. Her leg flailed slightly through the pain, and it went red with the rush of blood. He then pulled the needle out and threw it to the floor. John gritted his teeth. Sherlock watched the girl intensely. She convulsed for a few minutes before laying deadly still.

John growled as Sherlock took her pulse.

"Well, she's not dead." He said simply, turning to his friend.

"Of course I'm not dead!" Claudia suddenly yelled, sitting up suddenly and screaming, scrunching her face up against some pain.

"What is it?!" John asked frantically.

"It's burning!" She yelled.

"What we didn't take into account is how much of the antidote to use." Sherlock frowned, upon realising his error.

"We need to get her to hospital." John breathed, picking his restless and flailing sister up and carrying her quickly out. "Call it!" He exclaimed. Sherlock, no longer needing to hide his shaking hands, dialled the number and gave the address for the ambulance to come.

They waited for about three minutes until they heard the sirens. John handed his sister over and the two men joined her in the back of the ambulance.

"You're shaking." John noticed, himself shaking too.

"I'm worried. "Sherlock admitted. John looked shocked, but he ignored him and grabbed Claudia's hand, deciding to comfort her instead. She was whining slightly, as the paramedics put an IV into her and dripped different fluids into her blood stream.

"We need to get it out of her system. It's not the 'antidote' that's killing her, it's the poison still. The drug you injected Mr Holmes, saved her life, but it's still killing her. You just prolonged it, giving her a bit of extra time." A paramedic explained as they told their story.

"Get Lestrade." Sherlock nodded to John, and John texted Lestrade to tell him to get to the hospital.

"Is she going to be okay?" John asked as he put his phone away. The paramedic looked away.

"She'd best be." Sherlock muttered under his breath, looking furiously at the ground.

When they reached the hospital, they told Sherlock and John to wait in the waiting room while they operated and tried to do their best for her. They had to clean her blood, and make sure the poison hadn't begun to destroy any organs.

They'd been waiting for five hours. Not saying anything, not talking at all. Mycroft had turned up and had waited with them for two hours. Lestrade had been waiting for one and a half hours. Mrs Hudson had rushed there as soon as she found out. Marie and Carlie from the office had just turned up. Everyone was annoying Sherlock. Well, when he said everyone, what he meant was Mycroft.

"Do you have to be here?" He suddenly snapped, turning on his brother due to his foul mood.

"Yes, Sherlock. I do believe she's one of my friend." Mycroft snapped back, glaring at him. Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes.

"I do think it's John we should be comforting here." Mrs Hudson gently reminded everyone.

"Forget comforting me!" John yelled. "Can we just concentrate on Claudia?!" He shouted. Everyone shut up, even Sherlock didn't talk after that outburst.

And it was that point that a nurse, dressed in green surgery scrubs, rushed out of the theatre and into the waiting room. The small group stood up anxiously.

"Well?" John asked quietly. The nurse grinned.

"She's going to be fine. She's weak right now, but we've cleaned it out of her system. You can go in and see her, but two at a time please." The nurse said, opening the door.

"Sherlock." John said, inhaling deeply. The two men walked into the room to find Claudia, awake, but breathing through a ventilator. She looked at them as they walked in and took the mask from her face.

"Claudia." John sighed, relieved. Claudia smiled faintly at them both, holding her hand out for John to take.

"I thought he was going to choose his pretty woman over me." Claudia laughed gently, staring pointedly at Sherlock.

"As if I'd let him." John told his little sister, kissing her damp forehead. She put the mask back on for a second before taking it off again.

"Thank you." She told Sherlock especially, for it was him that had saved her life. "But my leg's bloody hurting." She then said, looking down at the large bruise Sherlock had left on her leg. Even Sherlock winced at that.

"Sorry." He told her sincerely, and John looked shocked that he'd managed to apologise without laughing for the first time since he'd known him. Claudia smiled.

"Doesn't matter." She promised, sitting up very slowly. "How long have you been waiting for me?" She winced as John put a pillow behind her.

"Five hours." Sherlock said. Claudia grimaced as the men took a seat.

"Bloody hell. Why didn't you go home? I'm not that important." She joked, grinning as she placed the mask on her face for a second to catch her breath again.

"Claudia, you're one of the most important women in the world." Sherlock told her. Claudia's smile fell and she let the mask fall down too. She stared at him, wondering what he meant. John cleared his throat, feeling very awkward.

"And what did you mean by that, Sherlock?" He asked, turning to his friend with a warning look on his face.

"I meant what I said." Sherlock shrugged. "Moriarty wants her both alive and dead, ergo, she must be incredibly important." He said.

"Is that the only reason you're here then?" Claudia laughed humourlessly.

"Of course not." Sherlock said gently, looking her in the eye intensely before looking away at his phone. John sighed.

"How are you feeling, anyway?" John asked her, gripping her hand once more.

"Aching. Tired. I think I'll be fine after I've slept." Claudia shrugged.

"Let's let you sleep then." John said, standing up. Claudia led down.

"You sleep too, John. You look really tired." She told him, turning her head to the side as she watched them.

"You know, I just might. But I don't want you on your own." He argued.

"Sherlock can stay with me." Claudia insisted, her eyes drooping as she yawned. Sherlock nodded.

"I don't mind. You go and sleep." He told John.

"It's a rare occasion when Sherlock's sensitive. I'd better go with it. Wake me up if anything happens." John warned, pointing at Sherlock before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Claudia glanced at Sherlock for a moment before gesturing for him to sit back down.

"I'd talk to you but I really do have to sleep." She said, yawning again. Sherlock smiled fondly at her and gestured for her to go ahead. She put the oxygen mask on again and allowed herself to go to sleep, her hand reaching out for Sherlock's just before she turned unconscious.

He looked at their connected hands for a moment, thinking it odd that someone wanted to hold his hand. But he then relaxed, and sat back in his seat, still gripping her hand tightly.

He thought back to Irene Adler, and thought about how he felt now that she was dead. Was he pleased? He'd been worried for a few months that she'd get in touch. He didn't want that. He'd saved her life, he'd saved her from being beheaded, and that was that. He didn't want contact again. Her obsessiveness, her lack of self respect and her desire to want to shock people scared him. It scared him in a way that he desired and longed for her. But _she _wasn't what he wanted.

Yes, he liked her charisma and her lack of fear. But he disliked her lack of humanity and the ability to be normal. Despite his lecturing, he would like to someday have a normal life.

Of course, he wouldn't stop his investigating, and his consulting detective work. But he would like to one day have someone he could go to bed with at night and wake up to the next morning. Who'd put up with his moods without storming away. Who found him endearing and who he, in return, could shower his hidden love on. Irene Adler wasn't a woman that fit that description.

He couldn't exactly picture her walking down a busy street in Summer and feel perfectly happy holding hands.

Ever since a child he'd had that one picture in his mind. He'd know if he loved someone, because he could picture holding their hand and feeling content for once. He found difficulty loving people, and expressing his love. He couldn't handle it. The intense emotions.

But he'd always thought that once he found that one person who would love him unconditionally, all of that other stuff would come easily. With Irene, it would never come easily. She was out to shock, and dominate. Sherlock wanted an equal, and someone he trusted.

Was that Claudia? Looking at her now, hair pulled back into a ponytail, eyes fluttering as she slept, breathing heavy through her mask. Did he want that kind of life with her? A kind of life where he wasn't shy of telling her how he felt, no matter how hard it was for him to express his feelings properly.

He could imagine trying to tell her he loved her and instead saying- 'I quite like you, you know, like I like a new serial killer out in London.'

But the funny thing was, Sherlock could imagine Claudia laughing at that, and telling him she loved him too.

Sherlock shook his head. Why was he thinking these things? It must just be because he was worried about her. Worried she wouldn't make it through her sleep.

But that was stupid because the nurses and doctors wouldn't leave her if she was unstable. Well, maybe he was thinking it because he really truly thought it.

And yes, he was mourning for Irene's death- but he wouldn't be crying himself to sleep. Not that he'd ever done that in his life anyway.

When Claudia woke up, she took the mask off her face and sat up. She felt better. She still ached, and her leg still throbbed, but she felt refreshed. Like the drugs had worn off. She was no longer seeing faint stars in the background, and her head felt a lot lighter.

She smiled happily and looked down at herself. Her hand was being held by someone. She frowned and looked at who it was. Sherlock. Mr Sherlock Holmes was watching her, with one eye shut and the other wide open.

"Why've you got one eye shut?" She asked quietly.

"I was sleeping." He told her. "But you nudged me." He accused, sitting up straighter and letting her hand go. She grinned and rolled her eyes at him.

"Ah, it's always so lovely waking up to you." She joked. Sherlock guffawed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Stop asking me pointless questions." She told him, smirking, recalling what he'd told her many times when he'd been shot.

"I know it's a pointless question. I was simply doing what social convention dictates." He told her, not understanding that she was joking. She smiled at him,

"I know." She replied.

_Holding hands in the sun. _

They were both silent for a second. "I'm feeling better, by the way." She told him. He smiled at her and suddenly grabbed her hand again, holding it. She looked at him smiling at her.

And that's when the older Watson decided to walk in. He glanced at them and turned right back around, shutting the door behind him.

"Should I call him back in?" Claudia asked. Sherlock thought for a second.

"No." He said simply, and Claudia laughed at him.


	17. The Quick Escape

Thank you for all the sweet reviews! I keep getting them and just walking around with a huge smile on my face. I'm glad that what I've been doing is good so far and that you guys want more! I also love how you're all agreeing with me on certain things, it feels like I have a little Sherlocked army! Keep the reviews coming guys, and I'll do my job more frequently too. -Fay xox

"I don't know how you can read a book without putting it down for more than two hours." John told his sister quietly, watching as she neared the end of the book she'd started only an hour and a half before.

"I like reading. And hospital's are boring." She replied without looking up. John sighed. She was turning into him. He was rubbing off on her. He turned to his friend and glared at him, only to find him nodding in agreement with her. A mini Sherlock and a larger than life Sherlock.

Claudia suddenly winced and sat up slightly, putting the book down for the first time. John also sat up, anxious.

"What's wrong?" He asked, with quick and slight hands.

"Everything's aching again." She groaned. John sat her back with professional hands and stretched her body out slightly, something he'd learnt when undergoing physio for his gunshot wound. She immediately seemed to relax.

"How did you know to do that?" She asked.

"You two seem to forget that I am an army doctor. I'm trained to stop pain." John reminded them both, sitting back down with a smug smile.

"As much as you are perfect at aligning the bones, Doctor Watson, I think she might need more pain killers." Sherlock spoke up sarcastically. John glared at him. He still hadn't forgiven him for kissing his sister.

"Will you stop snapping at each other?!" Claudia demanded, glaring at the two of them. "And get me some pain killers!" She then whined, flopping back into the uncomfortable hospital bed dramatically. John and Sherlock both rolled their eyes at her. John pressed the call button for a nurse to come.

A minute later, sharp footsteps approached the room.

"That's not a nurse." Sherlock said quickly, without even looking around. He stood up and looked toward the door, where there he stood, chewing gum. James Moriarty.

"Hello children." Moriarty grinned, strolling into the room with his hands behind his back. "Glad to see you used your brain and saved her." He snickered, before glancing down at her bruised leg. "Oh, but the big nasty Sherlock didn't do it that well, did he? That's going to take a while to heal." He said, before putting his hand on it gently. Claudia moved her leg away, glaring at him.

"You tried to kill me." She accused.

"No, I didn't, my sweet. I tried to show these two _idiots _what I'm capable of." Moriarty grinned at her, before finally facing the standing Sherlock and the hostile Watson. "And you two..." He trailed, and began to clap sarcastically. "Very fast work. It only took you a few hours to fully realise what was going on." He said. "You know they practically killed someone yesterday, honey?" He asked Claudia, turning to her briefly.

"We had no choice." Sherlock said stiffly. "And we didn't kill her. Your drone that you hired to kill Irene did." He accused. Moriarty shrugged.

"However you look at it, you could have saved her." He said.

"And Claudia would have died instead." John said, his voice firm but quiet. "And right now, I'm in the right mind to punch you square in your face, you spineless bastard." John hissed, standing up. "Who let you in?" He demanded.

"Oh, I don't get 'let in' anywhere. I find my way in." Moriarty shrugged. "Because _I _am the _business._" He said, eyes wide as he got his point across. "And the game, in case you were wondering, is now on level two. And oh, what a level this will be." He grinned.

"I'm not playing any more games with you." Sherlock muttered, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Oh, really?" Moriarty asked, his voice high pitched. "Well, I'll just have to kill you now." He said, pulling out his gun and pointing it straight at Sherlock's head.

"Don't you dare!" Claudia yelled, sitting bolt upright and wincing at the pain in her body. She tried to stand up but all the drips attached to her stopped her.

"Don't." Sherlock told her harshly, shooting his hand out in her direction as a warning. Moriarty grinned and chuckled as he watched them both. John's breathing was significantly heavier. "

"Are you going to change your mind?" Moriarty asked Sherlock. "I have to tell you something. It's much more amusing if you play the game to its intolerable and inevitable conclusion." He said, his smile dropping rather suddenly and glaring at them.

"And that would be my heart being burnt?" Sherlock asked lazily, eyeing up the mad man next to him with disdain.

"Oh, yes." He grinned again. "And I think I know exactly how to do that." He said, eyeing Claudia up. "Claudia, honey." He suddenly sounded a lot more feeble. "I understand completely if you want to break things off between us." He then smiled. "In fact, I insist you leave my house. You're a rather insufferable companion to have in the house." He said. "I'm giving you my consent to go back to live with these dicks." He then pointed to the two men.

"You didn't have to give consent. If you'd have even thought I'd step foot in that Godforsaken house then you'd find me dead on the bathroom floor." She hissed rather nastily. Moriarty looked somewhat wounded by her slur, but he shrugged it off.

"Well, look who's finally speaking up for herself." Moriarty laughed, slowly pocketing his gun. As soon as it was away, Sherlock faced his enemy.

"Leave, now. Before she kills you herself." Sherlock advised, only half joking. Moriarty shrugged.

"Well, we've practised that in role play so it shouldn't be that hard for her to do it in reality." He said crudely, and Claudia frowned with disgust at his innuendo.  
"I would never have done something like that with you. You're crap in bed." She sneered, trying to get her anger out in any way possible. John looked mildly disgusted at his sisters words, and he opted for pushing Moriarty out of the door instead of telling Claudia off for even _having _sex.

As soon as the consulting criminal had gone, and Sherlock had shut the door, the trio all began to laugh at the absurdity of what just happened.

"Did you really just tell Moriarty that he's crap in bed?" John asked, smirking finally. Claudia flushed slightly under the watchful gaze of her brother and the shifting gaze of Sherlock.

"Well, got the job done." She shrugged, relaxing back into the bed after being so tense for so long. "When do you think we'll hear from him again?" She asked the others.

"Hopefully quite a bit in the future. I'd quite like to go a day without seeing his face." John sighed. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Of course it's going to be in the future. He doesn't have a plan for 'level two' yet as he makes out. Did you not see the way he blinked a considerable amount when saying that sentence? You'd have thought a hard genius like him could control his natural impulses." Sherlock shook his head with his own superiority.

"Oh, to have a normal life." John joked.

"Don't lie, John. You wouldn't have your life any other way." Sherlock said lazily as he finally sat back down and took his phone out, typing furiously.

"Mum, I'm fine. Really. Stop worrying. Yeah, well, John exaggerated. I didn't get _poisoned. _Well, technically I did. It was really more of a hallucinatory thing." Claudia spoke avidly on her phone while her brother and Sherlock listened quietly. Claudia was glaring at John as her mother was almost shouting down the phone at her with worry. "No, it wasn't recreational." She sighed. She was silent for a second before she glared at her phone and turned it off. "God she drones on sometimes." She moaned. Sherlock smirked as he sat with his eyes shut, his head resting on his clasped fingertips.

"You can be awfully rude to them, you know." John tutted.

"Sometimes, I really can't be bothered with her. Today is one of those days." Claudia nodded. "I just want to drink pepsi, read some classics and _not _get into any arguments with _him,_" She said pointedly, looking at Sherlock. "Because that just drains me." She said dramatically, as if she was a melodramatic movie star.

"Stop being dramatic. You only got poisoned. Try getting shot in the chest." Sherlock muttered. Claudia heard him and sat up. Sherlock cracked an eye open to gauge her reaction, expecting her to shout at him. Instead she laughed.

"I suppose you're right." She allowed. "But you moaned a lot when you got shot." She reminded him. Sherlock sighed and closed his eye again. John had had enough of their relentless flirting- not that they even realised they **were **flirting- and rose from his seat.

"I'm going to get more drinks." He said, before pushing his way out of the private room and walking to the vending machine, slowly, not liking the obvious romanticism in that room.

He'd got his head around them both by now. If they really liked each other, then just let them do it. At least she wouldn't run off and leave him heartbroken like Irene Adler had done, as much as Sherlock insisted she didn't. But John had decided that until the idiots realised their feelings, he didn't have a problem. Claudia was oblivious to any reaction she had on men, and that was quite a strong reaction as she was quite different to other girls. She was most definitely a summer girl. All short dresses and long hair and that subtle glow that only summer girls get. And how John wished she'd be a winter girl. They could share knitted jumpers and thoroughly enjoy Christmas.

And Sherlock. Oh to get started on Sherlock. He didn't really understand emotions that well, especially romantic ones. They scared him. John knew that Sherlock could handle liking someone and desiring someone, but he seemed terrified of everything that came hand in hand with a relationship. Having to think about someone else, having to be attentive etc. John sighed. Two complicated people who didn't understand themselves. Well, until they did, they wouldn't be getting together. So, John concluded, they wouldn't be getting together for a considerable amount of time.

Meanwhile, Claudia had returned to reading and Sherlock had returned to his mind palace. At least, Claudia assumed that was where he was.

"What are you doing?" She whispered to him. He opened his eyes and frowned at her.

"Why on earth are you whispering?" He asked, his hands still clasped together under his chin. She shrugged helplessly. "To answer your question, I'm thinking."

"Thinking of that dreamy Moriarty?" She teased, making her voice all swoony and Marilyn Monroe-esque.

"Of course not. Not now that I know he's crap in bed." He joked, and Claudia laughed at him. Sherlock, upon hearing her laugh, smiled slightly.

"You can be quite funny when you want to be." She informed him, and his smile grew wider.

_Holding hands in the sun _was becoming all the more clearer in his mind. "When I get out of here, can we go and do something fun?" She asked. "I'm sick of all this depressing stuff going on in the background." She explained. Sherlock shrugged.

"You go with your brother." He replied. Claudia frowned.

"If I wanted to do something fun with John I would have asked John." She reasoned, snappish. Sherlock's eyes shot open and he matched her glare.

"I'm not really a fun person." He reminded her. Claudia rolled her eyes.

"Well, let's not do something fun then. Let's all wallow in our misery and die lonely and tragic deaths." She collapsed into her pillows again, once more being dramatic.

"You could star in your own movie." Sherlock informed her. She didn't reply, she just lay perfectly still. She knew he'd say something sooner or later. A few minutes after waiting for Claudia's reaction to his quip, he sighed. She'd won. "Fine. What did you have in mind?" He allowed, letting his hands fall into his lap. She grinned and sat up.

"I don't know. You think of something." She told him.

"It might not especially be seen as 'fun', but why don't I take you for lunch?" He asked her, leaning forward and causing his purple shirt to strain slightly. Claudia smiled.

"That sounds good." She nodded, suddenly turning somewhat shy. Sherlock nodded and sat back in his seat, resuming his earlier position.

They sat in a comfortable but slightly tense atmosphere for a few minutes. "When can I go home?" Claudia asked.

"Whenever you want." Sherlock said. She'd been released from her IV's a few hours ago, and home was sounding _delectable. _

She stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at London. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She suddenly asked, turning to him and looking out of the window. Sherlock watched her for a second before joining her at the window and gazing out.

"A good ledge outside so we wouldn't fall to our deaths. Then a flight of fire escape steps. I think we've got a plausible little escape route." He nodded, his face mere inches from hers as he towered over her. She smiled with anticipation.

"Let me get my book." She murmured. "And my jacket."

Sherlock also quickly put his jacket and scarf on, and then held her bag for her while she delicately slid her jacket on.

"You're a bad influence." She told him.

"What about your brother?" He asked her.

"He can get a cab home." She shrugged.

"They might think I've kidnapped you." Sherlock said. Claudia shrugged.

"Let's leave a note." She nodded. She ripped a page from her book and scribbled on the blank last page with a pencil.

'_John,_

_Not been kidnapped. This hospital is stifling so gone home._

_See you later,_

_C x'_

"That will do." She said, turning around to find Sherlock had got the window open.

"Come on." He urged, helping her climb outside.

John, five minutes later, returned to the privately booked room and walked in, only to find it completely empty. The only things left were his own jacket and a scrap of paper on the untidy bed. He picked it up, knowing full well what they had done. He read the note and closed his eyes, trying to control his anger. It was no doubt Sherlock's idea. And what the hell was he going to tell the nurses when they returned to give her pain killers?! He growled, slipped his coat on and decided to follow them out the window, not wanting to face the nurse.

Hope you enjoyed! I figured that maybe the ending is slightly unbelievable, but I for one truly believe that if Sherlock was to fall in love with anyone, it would be someone who hated hospitals as much as he and was willing to escape via a window to get away from one. I also liked the idea of them not even being able to wait for John, because they were too caught in the moment.

Anyway, hope you liked. Please keep the reviews coming in. -Fay xox


	18. The Living Dead

Sherlock and Claudia practically ran home, constantly glancing behind them as if a horde of nurses were chasing them angrily. This, obviously, wouldn't happen.

"Enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine!" Sherlock exclaimed as they ran down countless streets, with him still carrying her bag, it slung over his shoulder. Claudia laughed despite her aching leg, courtesy of Sherlock himself.

"Well, that's rather good because I'm thoroughly enjoying this!" Claudia laughed, her hair streaming behind her.

"Wait." Sherlock said rather suddenly, stopping right in the street before walking into a small shop. Claudia waited outside for him and tried to catch her breath, a faint smile playing on her lips. Sherlock emerged from the shop moments later, a newspaper under his arm. He flung it out rather dramatically and showed her the front page.

'_London girl almost killed by fatal poisoning.' _Read the headline.

"You've made front page news." He quipped. Claudia looked shocked, and she grabbed the paper, looking at the photo of her on the front page, stood with Sherlock and John somewhere. How had they even got that photo? She couldn't even remember having it taken. Whenever it was, it was a while ago, for Claudia and Sherlock were stood well away from each other.

"There's far more important things out there than me." Claudia insisted, folding the paper back up and handing it back to Sherlock, who shrugged.

"Shall we continue, Miss Watson?" He asked. Claudia nodded, smiling again and the duo set back off running. It was only when Claudia began lagging behind that Sherlock held his hand out for her, and they began running together.

John was in a foul mood as he ascended the stairs into his flat on Baker Street. He had been having serious thoughts of moving out and leaving Sherlock and Claudia on their own, the bloody deserters. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, only to find Sherlock plucking absently at his violin and Claudia led on the couch with her eyes closed, reminiscing Sherlock when he had to think about a case.

Claudia's eyes flashed out and she turned to stare at John, who was stood fuming in the doorway.

"Hello." Claudia smiled. "Why are you so angry?" She then asked, closing her eyes again.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because you two _ran away _from the hospital, leaving me behind, and making me follow you out the window in case I got questioned by a nurse. Perhaps because you two have been _seeing _each other secretly, which I find quite disturbing because, Sherlock, she's my little sister!" John suddenly roared, and Sherlock simply watched him before playing a proper tune on the violin. This only caused John to get more worked up. He stormed over to Sherlock and grabbed the violin's bow, holding it behind his back. "Will you please concentrate!" He exclaimed.

"Did you see that?" Sherlock asked Claudia. "I'm holding her witness. Give me my bow back." He ordered, glaring at John levelly.

"Not until you tell me what's going on between you two." John snapped causing Claudia to grunt, amused, on the couch. "And what are you laughing it? You're going back to the hospital, you know." John told his sister, who then sat up.

"I am not!" She exclaimed. She then stood up and snatched the bow from John's back and handed it to Sherlock. "You made me do that." She told John, before walking into his bedroom and shutting the door quietly behind her. Sherlock smirked at his friend before continuing to play his violin.

"She's really becoming one of us, isn't she?" Sherlock asked over the noise of his playing.

"Don't talk about her like that. I don't even want to think of you two being _friendly._" John shuddered, also going into his bedroom. A second later, Claudia walked out.

"He's trying to talk to me about things." Claudia said, before flopping back on the couch.

Irene Adler marched through the bustling Parisian restaurant, having just got an urgent message from her boss. She sat down in her reserved seat and poured herself a cup of tea from the set out tea pot. She glanced to her left where he was sat, shrouded behind a screen.

"Miss Adler." He said in his usual high pitched tone. "Glad to see you got my invitation."

"Yes, you interrupted my well deserved holiday for this, I'm hoping it's good." Irene snapped, sipping from her tea and glaring at the screen.

"Oh, you're going to love me." Moriarty insisted, smiling slightly. "Sherlock Holmes and John Watson think you're dead." He said. Irene stopped and put her cup down, a small smile forming on her face.

"And why would they think that?" She asked through her blood red lips.

"Because I made them believe it." Moriarty replied, knowing full well that Irene would be smiling despite herself.

"So, what do you want me to do?" Irene asked, knowing he had an ulterior motive.

"I want you to go there, Miss Adler. There's a new girl. Claudia Watson, John's sister. I need you to get back into Holmes' life and shove her out of it." Moriarty explained.

"That should be easy enough." Irene grinned. "But what do I get out of it?" She asked.

"As well as getting the man you stalk, you'll also get a considerable amount of money to fund your plastic surgery." Moriarty joked, and Irene glared at him.

"Is that all?" She asked.

"That's all. Goodbye, Irene. I'll keep updated with you." He promised. Irene nodded and finished her tea, before putting her long black jacket back on and walking out of the café and into the Parisian sun.

A knock on the door resonated through the whole flat, and Claudia stepped up slowly to answer the door. She held her leg slightly, the bruise still being the thing that hurt the most.

She opened the door and looked out, wincing against the unusually bright sun. A woman stood there, with curly black hair in an updo and heavy eye make-up, with typical blood red lipstick. She was wearing a slim black dress with tights and heels, and Claudia immediately felt inferior.

"Hello, dear. Is Sherlock in?" The woman asked, and even her voice sounded like bells.

"Um, yes. But who are you?" Claudia frowned, leaning against the door frame to support her.

"Oh. Just tell him that Irene Adler's here to see him." Irene smiled. Claudia nodded and shut the door, before leaning against it with her eyes shut. Moriarty had lied. Irene wasn't dead. She was never going to die. It was a test. She numbly walked up the stairs and into the living room.

Sherlock paused his violin playing and looked expectantly at her.

"Irene Adler's here." Claudia explained, frowning slightly. Sherlock paused before throwing his violin on the couch and running down the stairs to meet her. Claudia groaned to herself. She sat down and waited for the beautiful woman to join them back upstairs.

When the two walked in, Irene had dumped her jacket in Sherlock's arms and was flirting with him.

"I heard I was dead. But don't I look alive to you? I could show you later, if you wish." She whispered dramatically. Sherlock's eyes were glued to her, and Claudia looked down at her drab outfit of jeans a t-shirt. What made her feel better was knowing that _usually _she made the effort.

"And you haven't introduced me to your new friend. Is she a permanent replacement for me?" Irene asked, smirking at Claudia.

"How could she replace you, Irene?" John asked, walking out of his bedroom. "You never did anything and tried to ruin us. Claudia is _better _than you." He insisted. Claudia beamed at her brother and Irene kept her smirk.

"Is that right, Sherlock?" She asked, turning to him. Sherlock didn't reply. "Anyway, I need to stay with you for a while." She said.

"Bosses orders?" Sherlock finally asked. "Is this level two, then?" He asked.

"I guess you could call it that, yes. But I promise you on my life, if you don't let me stay here, I will be shot in the head. For real this time. Once again, bosses orders." She explained sincerely. And she was telling the truth. If she didn't do her job well, she would be killed. For good, this time.

"I'll give you some sheets. You can sleep on a couch." Claudia said, eyeing up the woman dangerously.

"Yeah, Claude you can have my bed. I'll sleep on the floor." John nodded, slinging his arm around his sisters shoulders. "Wouldn't want you on your own, anyway."

"Nonsense. I'll share Sherlock's room." Irene smiled at her 'friend.'

"I'd really prefer it if you slept in here as Claude said." Sherlock nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Irene and looking at Claudia.

"Ah, well. That preference will soon change." Irene winked at Sherlock.

"Enough of that, Irene. We're not up for your games." John muttered firmly. Irene glared at John.

"Okay, Big Watson." Irene said, and Sherlock grunted with mild amusement at her joke. "I'm practically famished. I say lunch on Sherlock?" She asked everyone in the room.

The more Claudia found herself hating Irene Adler, the more tenser the situation got. Sherlock was obviously quite into her, he kept staring at her for short periods of time as if his life depended on it. He'd then break his gaze and look elsewhere.

Irene, meanwhile, was drinking red wine at 2pm and making sexual innuendos all the time. That kind of humour didn't strike with anyone else around the table, and Irene was realising that she'd have to change her tactics.

"So, what have you men been doing in my absence?" Irene asked. "Or have you been pining after me too much to do anything productive?" She teased. Sherlock smiled.

"To be honest, Irene, we haven't noticed your absence." He promised. Irene's smile fell and she glared at the consulting detective. Claudia openly grinned at the criminal smugly.

"Sorry, but who exactly are you?" Irene snapped at Claudia, having enough of the pretty younger girl.

"Claudia Watson. John's brother. Your bosses ex-girlfriend." Claudia said.

"How did you know who my boss is?" Irene asked, shocked.

"It's obvious. The way you speak of him, the way you talk of yourself, you're influenced by him. You don't have to be a genius to work that out." Claudia explained. John smiled at her, trying to hide it with his hand but failing to. Sherlock was also smiling.

"So you think you're a detective now that you've helped Sherlock on one case?" Irene asked, eyebrows raised.

"No. Do you?" Claudia challenged. Irene kept her stare going, fully staring Claudia in the eye.

"Well, actually, I've found a new case for the both of you." Irene said, turning her attention away from Claudia and addressing only Holmes and Watson. Big Watson.

"We're not interested." John said simply.

"Don't be hasty. You know what happens when I don't have a case." Sherlock said, referring to his drug use.

"You won't know anything about that, will you Claudia? You've barely known him long enough to have seen his drug addled behaviour." Irene smirked.

"You've never seen it either, Irene." John said lazily, and Sherlock nodded in agreement. "He turns into a bloody pain in the arse." He told Little Watson. Claudia nodded, already assuming that he would do anyway. Sherlock sighed, sick of them talking about him as if he weren't there.

"Stop dragging this out, Irene. What is the case?" Sherlock asked, sounding incredibly bored.

"A serial killer." Irene informed them. "All the way from France. They're following me. Let's just say I kicked up a fuss in Paris." She shrugged.

"What kind of fuss?" Sherlock asked. "Wait, let me guess." He turned to inspecting Irene. "Heavy Parisian perfume, expensive, something you wouldn't have been able to afford, despite your hefty bank balance. New bracelet on arm, it's too shiny to have been worn for a considerable amount of time. It's also engraved with something." He noticed, grabbing her wrist and peering at the inscription. "For my darling Irene, with love." I've already deduced everything I need to know from those three things." Sherlock informed the small group, sitting back in his chair.

"Go on then." Irene shrugged.

"You were having an affair with a rather wealthy Parisian man. I'm assuming royalty, I'm insisting he used to be a client of yours. You don't just _meet_ royalty, they have to request your presence. Therefore, this man is an old client who wanted to see you again." Sherlock said. Irene nodded. He took this as an urge to continue. "He lavished you with gifts, perfume and jewellery. You pretended you loved him back, but obviously, you just wanted his money. You left for England as soon as Moriarty dictated that you had to, and he got angry. Assuming that you'd gone to England to tell all of his military and financial secrets, he's sending out his little army of assassins to kill you." Sherlock deduced. "They've got it wrong a few times, hence why it's a serial killer."

"All of that from perfume and a bracelet. Marvellous." John complimented, and Claudia simply gazed at Sherlock, not being able to hold in her smile. Sherlock nodded in agreement with John.

"Aren't I just?" He asked sarcastically.

"Right on all accounts, Sherlock. You haven't lost it." Irene nodded. "So, are you going to help me?" She asked.

"Yes." Sherlock replied. "But only because you won't leave us alone until you do."

Irene smiled, knowing that was true.

"Well you'd better hurry up and start helping me because there's an assassin in this very room." Irene said calmly and quietly, although the fear was evident in her eyes.

"I know." Sherlock nodded. "I've known as soon as we sat down." He informed her. "Claudia, go to the bathroom, as naturally as you can. Irene, go with her. It'll look more natural that way. John and I will watch out. In a few minutes, we'll meet you outside the ladies bathroom window, in the alley outside where we'll take our leave." Sherlock murmured, barely audible. Claudia and Irene looked at each other before forcing smiles on their faces and walking to the toilets very quickly and very close together. Irene laced her arm through Claudia's and Claudia noticed she was shaking.

"Don't worry." Claudia tried to assure her. Why she was doing that, she wasn't quite sure. "You know he'll get you out."

"I know." Irene said. "I trust him with my life." She whispered as they walked into the bathroom. Claudia shut the door behind them and leaned on it hard, trying to barricade it while Irene tried to open the window.

"Quickly." Claudia urged as she heard footsteps approach the ladies room. Irene drastically tried to open the window, shaking it with all of her strength. Finally, the stiff hinge gave way and the small frosted window opened. She climbed out first, and Claudia also dashed to the window. Irene helped her down, softening her jump slightly. The two women then let go of each other and looked around for Sherlock and John.

"I think that was a job well done." Irene breathed, holding her hand up for Claudia. Claudia high-fived her in agreement.

"What's it like having a... A glamorous life where old lovers want revenge." Claudia asked.

"You tell me, you've got a glamorous life too, you know? What's it like living with Sherlock Holmes and accompanying him on cases?" Irene asked.

"It's hardly the same." Claudia said.

"I know." Irene nodded, looking the girl in the eye. "But you've got the better life." She said sincerely. It was at that moment when Sherlock and John finally reached them.

"I think Baker Street is calling, don't you?" Sherlock asked, as they all took off running. For Claudia, it was the second time that day that she'd had to do this, only this time, it was a lot more serious and didn't involve any laughter.


	19. Courageous Claudia

Sherlock opened the door to 221B Baker Street and the small group rushed inside, with Claudia shutting the door behind them all. They all leaned on the wallpapered wall behind them, breathing heavily after running for ten minutes straight. They all looked at one another before cracking small smiles, mostly because of relief. Irene, now relaxed, walked to the locked and chained door and looked out of the peep hole.

"No one's there." She sighed with relief. It was then that a kick at the door sent her flying back with shock. Claudia grabbed The Woman's hand as they worriedly watched the men approach the door. They stood incredibly silent, waiting for the next attack. Another kick, this time almost breaking the chain on the door. The men then persisted in holding the door, shoving all of their weight onto it.

"Is this man going to kill you if he gets in?" Claudia asked Irene quickly. Irene nodded, turning an even paler shade than her makeup. "You sure?" She asked, really not wanting to do what she was going to have to do.

"Do it!" Sherlock told her through gritted teeth.

"Do what?" John asked, not yet having the fantastic deductive mind that Holmes did. Claudia rushed up to the living room before grabbing her gun from underneath the coffee table. A safe hiding place, in her eyes, and much to Sherlock's amusement. She then sprinted downstairs and stood behind the men, with Irene watching from afar, her finger nails in her teeth as she chewed them nervously.

Claudia nodded at the men and they stood back, letting the door crash in. The accusing man charged into the flat, but stopped as soon as Claudia shot him in the leg. He fell to the floor with an agonised yell,

"Awfully sorry!" Claudia cringed, calling shakily to the man on the floor, having never intentionally hurt anyone in her life. John bent to the man, to find him knocked out from the pain.

"Is he dead?" Irene asked hopefully, stepping forward tentatively.

"No." John said. "Just unconscious. As much as you probably don't want him to live any more, Irene, I'm going to have to stop the flow of blood or he _will _be dead." John said. He motioned for Sherlock to pick up the man as he shut the door. Irene dodged out of the way as Sherlock picked him up and walked up the stairs slowly, the weight of the brute weighing him down.

The girls followed, both of them shaking. "Good shot." Irene told her, relieved that although she and Claudia despised each other for no good reason, they had their little alliance.

"I know." Claudia laughed shakily, taking after Holmes for her vanity and big headedness.

Sherlock dumped the man onto the couch and the group of detectives stared at him.

"What can you tell me about him?" Irene asked Sherlock, more for the entertainment of watching his alertness that for the information he'd share.

"He's bald, but has stubble on his chin and neck. Therefore, he shaves his head. Why? Possibly to promote a certain appearance, or to fit in with a group. A group of thugs." He said, eyeing up the ladies. "Next, he tried to charge in here with no thought of the dangers inside. Therefore, he's impulsive. Reckless. Didn't stop to think that we would fight back." All eyes glanced to Claudia. John's were worried about her, Irene's were thankful toward her and Sherlock's were impressed. Claudia just looked surprised by her own ferocity.

As Sherlock explained his findings, John went into the bathroom and got a towel, ripping strips from it and tying it just above the gunshot wound, to try and stop the flow of blood. He then padded some of the towel on top of the wound itself. And if he was going to call anyone, it would be Lestrade. He always understood these things when it came to Sherlock Holmes. Holmes would lie to him and say it was one of Moriarty's men who shot him, obviously. He wouldn't let Claudia get the blame, would he? He damn well hoped not.

"Also, he's Parisian." Sherlock said, probably the most important piece of information which he kept until the end. "All of his clothes are French, and, if I'm right- and I usually am..." He said, glancing at Claudia as he reached into the mans pockets and pulled his wallet out. He flicked through, pulling out all of the bank cards in there and tossing them to the ground. "All French." He nodded. "Therefore, ergo, sum... Definitely after Irene, definitely a thug, and definitely intent on killing her." Sherlock added, also pulling a gun from the man's jean pockets. "Why he didn't think to use that I'll never know." He muttered.

"Awfully glad he didn't think to use it though, eh?" Irene cocked a perfectly waxed eyebrow at him. Sherlock nodded.

"Quite right." He muttered, before throwing the gun on top of the man. "When's Lestrade getting here?" He asked John. John had only just put the phone down, and he sighed as he replied.

"Five minutes." He promised impatiently.

"I'm just going to freshen up. I'm sure the running has taken it's toll on my make up." Irene said shakily, standing up and walking woodenly into the bathroom. Claudia then relaxed, which is something she always did when The Woman left the room. Sherlock glanced at her, before walking behind the couch as it to grab something from behind her.

What he actually did, however, was bend down to her ear. "Excellent shot." He complimented her, whispering directly in her ear and causing her to shiver with delight. He slowly moved his face back but before he could even stand up straight, Claudia's hands were on his neck, forcing his mouth to hers.

John stopped still, they'd forgotten he was in the room. His mouth fell open with disgust and he picked up the TV remote and threw it on the floor, causing a rather loud bang. He watched as the couple paused, their mouths mere centimetre's from each other.

Sherlock cleared his throat and backed up.

"Sorry about that, John." He said, flushing slightly. John was shocked by that too. The first time he'd seen Sherlock embarrassed.

Claudia also looked wounded, as if shot in the head by a hunter. She couldn't seem to move, so luckily, Irene walking back into the room caused her to sit back down properly and actually move her limbs.

"What's going on?" Irene asked, pausing as she saw how awkward everyone looked.

"Sherlock and my bloody sister." John said through gritted teeth as he walked into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. When he'd done so, Irene had to hide her displeasure.

"Seriously? You two?" She asked, as if shocked. She'd known all along, of course. She wasn't stupid.

"I don't know about Miss Watson, but I'd rather not talk about it." Sherlock said quickly, walking to the window when he heard the sound of a familiar engine. Claudia also heard it and knew who it was. She decided to get the door, to save the embarrassment of facing Irene Adler after kissing the man she was obviously interested in.

She checked herself out in the mirror before answering the door, making sure her cheeks weren't too flushed or her lips too plump. An excited looking girl looked back at herself, and she shied away from her reflection with a horrified realisation.

She _enjoyed _this detective life. And she was sure it would kill her in the end.

She finally got the nerve to open the door, to find Lestrade standing there.

"Hello, detective." She smiled, opening the door wider for him to go in.

"Hello, Miss Watson. How are you? Feeling better after the incident, I hope." Lestrade replied kindly.

"Much, thanks." Claudia said, leading him up into the flat Lestrade had searched for drugs on many an occasion.

"Good." Lestrade said, stopping only when Sherlock Holmes – the bane of his life – smiled unenthusiastically at him. Lestrade was sure it was a sarcastic smile.

"This man was shot." Irene said dramatically, standing up and gesturing to the unconscious and shot man still led on the couch.

"Good to see you as ever, Irene Adler." Lestrade sighed, upon realising that his hopes of never seeing that woman again were gone, as there she was. Another bane of his life.

"Who shot him?" Lestrade asked. Claudia busied herself tidying up the coffee table, feeling utterly guilty. Sherlock nudged her foot with his own and looked rather reassuringly at her. As if to say- 'You did it for a good reason, and I would have done the exact same.'

The look made her believe in herself and she decided not to lie to a detective more than she already had done in her life.

"I did." She said, and John, leaning on a wall, thwacked his head on it with frustration.

"You did?" Lestrade looked confused. "Why?"

"He was chasing us, detective. Trying to shoot Irene. Check his gun." Sherlock said, pointing to the gun strewn on the couch. Lestrade sighed.

"You do understand, Claudia, that I'll have to take you away?" He asked carefully, not knowing how any of the crazy group would react to that. Claudia looked devastated, John thwacked his head once more and Irene looked nonchalant.

"You will do no such thing." Sherlock said, grasping Claudia's arm and looking reluctant and possessive. "She's one of us, now. I have no intention on letting you take her away." He insisted, his grip tightening on her arm.

"Please don't turn this into a fight, Holmes." Lestrade sighed, sure another streak of grey hairs would be appearing that very minute.

"It was self defence!" John blurted, coming away from the wall. "He was battering our door in, trying to get Irene, and Claudia protected us!" He exclaimed. Lestrade looked conflicted.

"But the law..." He trailed pathetically. Sherlock gave him a look that silenced him.

"If you take her, you're taking me too. And I know you don't want that." He said, pulling Claudia slightly closer toward him as he warned the detective inspector. Lestrade sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, I don't." He sighed. "Look, I can't let you get away with it. But, I can keep it rather quiet. Get him to hospital, make something up. But it is the law, and it will be recorded. You might have to pay a small fine." Lestrade shrugged. "It _was _self defence." He reasoned with himself.

"Exactly." John leaned back onto the wall, relieved.

"And it looks a good shot." Lestrade complimented, eyeing up the bloody patch on the mans jeans. "Right, I'll ring an ambulance. Say you found him and brought him in. And then I'll close the case, I'll say Moriarty did it. But if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll arrest you all in a minute." Lestrade warned, pointing at them all individually. "Only for you, Holmes." He sighed, getting his mobile out.

"Lestrade, sometimes I could kiss you." Sherlock quipped, still not letting Claudia's arm go in case Lestrade suddenly went on a rampage and took her away from him. He couldn't face that. He'd grown accustomed to having both of his Watson's around, and he didn't think he could live without one of them now. Not that he'd admit that to anyone.

He glanced at Irene who again looked nonchalant.

Claudia sighed in relief, tempted to truly go and kiss the man. Brilliant Lestrade, she smiled wistfully.

That evening, (the evening before Claudia and Sherlock were due to go for a meal), Irene shifted uncomfortably on the couch. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, and she didn't know how John had been sleeping there for so long since Claudia had come along.

Sick of her lack of sleep, she sat up, pulling on Sherlock's shirt to cover her thighs. She then stood up, balancing her weight slightly as she almost lost her balance. She smiled at her oddness, and then trudged to Sherlock's bedroom.

She didn't bother knocking on the door. The art of surprise always worked to her advantage. The door creaked ever so quietly as she opened it, and she paused, worried he'd wake. No noise. She squeezed in through the small gap in the door, her long black hair almost getting caught as she closed it behind her quietly. She then walked over to the large double bed, and was about to climb in when she noticed the usually empty side next to where Sherlock slept was taken by a body. She stood properly back on the floor and bent over, looking to see who the hell it was.

Claudia.

She gasped slightly and backed away. She then took a risk and lifted up the sheets, only to be more horrified. They were dressed- nakedness wasn't the problem. It was the fact that Sherlock had his arms around her waist that rocked her to the core.

All the times she'd shared this very bed with him, he'd _never _done that to her. He'd always led rathe rigidly next to her, barely daring to touch her in case she woke up and tried to seduce him. Again.

She let the covers fall back onto the sleeping pair, before backing up out of the room and shutting the door behind her again.

Time to split them up, she thought. Time to wake John up.

She knocked gently on his bedroom door and opened it. He was led on the floor, looking rather comfortable, stacked on various cushions and blankets to pad the floor up. The sound of the door opening woke him from his daze and he sat up lazily.

"Sherlock?" He asked, squinting into the darkness. Irene walked into the room and turned the lamp on above his head. "Irene?" He then spluttered, surprised by her lack of clothes. Only a shirt. Although, that was much better than her being completely naked like she had once been.

"John. Claudia's with Sherlock." She whispered. John glanced up to his empty bed above, and a hurt look passed his usually happy face. He slowly stood up and followed The Woman out of his bedroom and into Sherlock's, where he saw Claudia and Sherlock sleeping in their embrace.

"What do we do?" Irene whispered, assuming that John would want to split them up as much as her. Unfortunately, John was not that cruel.

"We leave them to it." He said. "As much as you'd like to, Irene, you can't control them. They're not children." John whispered, before patting her shoulder, knowing how much it would be hurting her to see this simple act of sleep. He then padded out of the room, leaving the door open for her to follow and go back to her makeshift bed on the couch.

She watched Sherlock and Claudia for a second more, before padding after John and shutting the door.

Claudia grinned, and Sherlock snorted. "Do you think they saw us?" He asked sarcastically, his eyes still closed as they no longer pretended to sleep.

"Possibly." She giggled quietly, moving slightly so that she was even closer to his warm form. She was taking advantage. Normally, she knew he would never hug her like this. But she lied and told him only an hour before that she didn't want to sleep in an empty bed because she was shaken up about shooting the French man. Sherlock knew she was lying, but also knew she probably did actually want some comforting. So he agreed.

He kissed her forehead, and she sighed contentedly.

Good luck Irene Adler, she thought in her mind as she smiled herself to sleep.

**Hey guys!**

**Good old Lestrade, eh? Not sure if he would honestly be able to do this in real life, but can yo actually see him arresting Claudia and dragging Sherlock along with her too? I don't think his nerves could bear it.**

**So, this is me, finally replying to some of your wonderful comments! Some of these replies may be from some older comments too, but look out for your reply if I've given you one, haha.**

_**Wattpad- Isie98, I like that little bond Claudia and Irene have too. But you also know that deep down they really hate each other, haha. X**_

_**Fanfiction- kcollins720 – I figured that life for Claudia and Sherlock would never be simple, so I thought to make Moriarty's level two really burn the heart out of Sherlock! But, don't worry, love always remains... ;-) X**_

_**Fanfiction- LoveInChains – Uh, I loved this review! I rather enjoy being 'perfectly sincere' haha. So, thank you for being very complimentary and I'll try to keep up the good work! X**_

_**Fanfiction- mariarosa – I'm trying to make Irene as awful as possible so that Sherlock comes to his senses once and for all. Thanks for the lovely reviews you always give me! (And, referring to a few earlier reviews, I'm glad I could provide you with something to distract you from life, haha!) X**_

_**Fanfiction- Gwilwillith – I can't make a little reply section without mentioning you. I'm pretty sure you review every single thing I've done, and for them I'm ever grateful. Thank you xox**_

_**(Also, I've lost the little email I get saying who advised me this, but thanks to whoever told me to have my authors note in bold, it was duly noted as you can see! X) **_

**Keep the reviews, coming guys! -Fay xox**


	20. Chichester

"And where are you two going?" Irene asked, lounging in the front room with only a bath robe draped around her shoulders. And a silk one at that.

"I promised her lunch." Sherlock said, his jacket flung over his arms as he waited for Claudia to emerge from John's bedroom.

"Is it limited to just the two of you or can anyone come?" Irene asked, flirting tremendously.

"It's more definitely limited to the two of us." Claudia said, walking out of the bedroom looking much better than she had done for the previous few days. She was wearing one of her renowned short dresses, with her hair wavy and falling her back. Much better than the jeans and sweaters she'd been accustomed to wearing.

Sherlock smirked at Irene and opened the door for Claudia, his eyes not leaving The Woman's until he followed Claudia out of the door and shut it quietly behind him.

"This is the same restaurant as that first day I came to London and realised what a mental case you are." Claudia teased, sipping her wine, despite it only being lunch, and smirked at the detective in front of her- also drinking wine.

"Ah, how simple your life was then." He said, sounding somewhat bitter. Claudia's smile fell and she knew what he was thinking about.

If she hadn't have gotten involved with Sherlock, and hadn't moved in with her brother, none of this crap would have happened to her. But he was wrong.

"You're wrong about that." She informed him. "For one, I already knew Moriarty, and he would probably have poisoned me anyway." She told him. "And two, if it hadn't have been for you, I would be dead in that warehouse right now." She said rather calmly. Sherlock nodded, allowing her that, but not fully agreeing with her.

"You're not wearing his pendant." Sherlock said rather suddenly, eyeing up the empty space on her chest. Claudia smirked.

"I was hardly gonna continue wearing it even though he's let me free, would I?" She asked. Sherlock shrugged.

"I don't know... Maybe I... Perhaps it would be... I could... Get you a replacement... Or something like that... I don't..." He stuttered ceaselessly, his eyes only looking at the deep red liquid in his glass. Claudia smiled at him.

"If you wanted to." She told him, finding his absolute awkwardness endearing.

"Good. I will then." He nodded, still refusing to look at her, still only watching his drink. Claudia shook her head at him and looked behind him, noticing for the first time that someone was staring at her.

"Don't look now, but there's a man staring absolutely at me. And he's on his own." Her detective skills were really beginning to show. Sherlock waited a moment before turning to look himself. He then muttered very calmly to Claudia,

"Get your coat, we're leaving." He said.

"This is the second time we've had to abruptly leave." Claudia sighed, not enjoying the complete unfairness of it all. "Who is he?" She then asked.

"Another bald man. Another part of the group of assassins after Irene. Only his hand is twitching as his pocket, perhaps holding his gun. He's thinking of shooting us. He knows we're competition. Get rid of the competition, and he would have easy access to Irene." Sherlock explained. "He wants to kill us so that he can kill Irene." He looked up at her for the first time in a while. Claudia was gazing at him intently, listening to every word he said. "So get your coat on, we've leaving." Sherlock then said, a lot more firmly and sounding quite scary. Claudia did as she was told.

A waiter saw what she was doing and walked to the table.

"Do you want the bill?" The Italian man asked, worried that they were going to run without paying for their drinks and the food they'd only just ordered.

"Here." Sherlock said, thrusting fifty pounds at the man- more than enough to cover two glasses of wine. "Keep the rest as a tip." He muttered. Claudia was trying to do anything but watch the man watching them, but her eyes continued to be drawn to the bald man, his hand now inside his pocket.

"Why does everyone want to shoot us? In restaurants?" Claudia hissed, purely angry. Sherlock put his hand on her lower back as he led her out, pushing her slightly as he stood directly behind her, willing to take a bullet in case the man abruptly shot.

As soon as they were outside, Sherlock opened a cab door and let Claudia climb in first, before following her.

"Where are we going?" Claudia asked, looking out of the window to see if the man was following.

"We're going home, and then we're leaving for the country." He explained. Claudia frowned.

"What?!" She exclaimed.

"As much as I'd like this whole thing to be a case to solve, there is nothing to solve. We know what's going on, and there's no way we can stop it. There's no need for us to get caught in the intricate web of politics." Sherlock explained. Claudia nodded, only half understanding what he was getting at.

"So we're going to continue to be shot at until this Parisian royalty gets over Irene?" Claudia asked.

"Exactly. And I can see how frustrated you're getting by it. So, we're going to Mycroft's country house in Chichester until it blows over. Luckily, I heard there's been a string of murders over there that I can delve into." He explained.

"And what if I don't want to go?" Claudia challenged.

"Oh, you're always arguing." Sherlock muttered under his breath.

"I don't want to leave my home just because Irene's pissed off some guy." Claudia snapped. "She doesn't rule our lives, Sherlock. I don't fully understand why she's living with us anyway." She then stated.

"I can't let her be killed." Sherlock said quietly. Claudia grew pale, and she refused to look at him, opting instead to look outside. Sherlock saw her anger, and touched her bare arm. "It's not like that." He said, struggling for words. "You don't understand our relationship." He then said.

"So you're in a relationship with her?" Claudia demanded.

"No!" Sherlock exclaimed sincerely. "But I don't see why you've got any reason to be upset!" He told her, before instantly regretting it. He watched as tears began to pool in her eyes, and then as she once more turned away from him.

The cab driver in front grimaced, and looked knowingly at Sherlock, giving him an encouraging nod and directing his head at Claudia. Sherlock took her hand, following the cab drivers instructions, but she grabbed her hand back.

So he left her alone.

"I'm not going!" Sherlock heard Claudia yell to John in the kitchen. "That woman suddenly comes in our lives and we have to relocate to suit her?!" She shouted. Irene was sat in the living room with Sherlock, and she grimaced through her smile at Claudia's harsh words.

"She had quite a pair of lungs on her, that girl." Irene said quietly, and Sherlock ignored her. He was stood by the window, his violin in his hands, but he was choosing to listen to the Watson's' argument instead.

"It's what's best, Claude. We're going to be shot at relentlessly until they've got what they've wanted. It wouldn't matter if Irene's nowhere near us, we're associated with her now. And if we leave without you, you're going to be killed too." John replied, not shouting but more- irate.

"Oh yeah, because they're not going to follow us to Chichester!" Claudia yelled. She then opened the kitchen door. "Which, by the way, _Holmes, _sounds absolutely mind-numbingly boring." She shouted at him. "They're not going to stay in London while we're there!" She reasoned, shutting the door again.

"Mycroft's house in Chichester is very well guarded. Honestly, I've been there myself. It's got guards and alarms and everything. We stay in the house until Sherlock can work his magic and everything blows over." John shrugged.

"And how is Sherlock going to 'work his magic' if we can't leave the house?" She then demanded.

"You find a flaw with everything!" Sherlock shouted loudly. Claudia opened the door, glared at him, and shut it again.

"I've got a point, you know I do." She told John more quietly. He shrugged.

"Maybe." He allowed, nodding his head with agreement. "But I've trusted that man with my life dozens of times over. If he thinks going away will save our lives, I'll go with it. But I'm not leaving without you." He said, before abruptly walking out of the kitchen and leaving Claudia behind to think things over.

She knew Sherlock was right. The main problem she had was with what Sherlock had said in the car, and this was her revenge.

"I don't think I can survive Claudia for much longer." John lied melodramatically. Sherlock rolled his eyes at his friend, just like he did to Claudia when she was overly dramatic.

Sherlock himself was gazing at the frosted glass door, where he could only just make out the image of Claudia leaning against the door, her head pointed up as she looked at the ceiling. The thought of the kitchen made him remember something. He quickly walked in, making Claudia jolt forwards as he opened the door she was leaning on.

He rushed to the microwave and pulled out a dish with various pairs of human eyeballs. He smirked at Claudia's now pale face and put them on the windowsill out of the kitchen window.

"You're disgusting." She told him – she would have teased him if she hadn't have been so mad – and she stormed past everyone and into John's bedroom, where she begrudgingly began packing a suitcase. As if she would honestly stay at home and allow Irene Adler to flirt relentlessly with Sherlock in Chichester. Of course she was going, but what's wrong with kicking up a fuss first?

"What have you packed?" John asked as he leaned on his bedroom door, watching his sister shut and lock up her vintage looking suitcase.

"Dresses. Things. I'm assuming we won't be there for very long." She said. John smirked at how she said 'dresses' first.

"I'm just making sure you've got enough. We don't know how long we'll be there." John said.

"You're treating this like it's life and death. If they really want us, or her, Chichester is not going to stop them." She continued to insist, eyeing up John sincerely John shrugged.

"True. But Sherlock seems to know what he's doing. Truthfully, I think he's trying to protect you." John sighed. He really didn't want to admit that, but he had to, for his own mental well being. He couldn't cope with an argument between Sherlock and Claudia- it would last for hours and hours. And only hours before they'd been to lunch together. The concept of the both of them together still struck him as odd.

"Right." Claudia sighed, picking her suitcase up and taking it into the living room and dumping it amongst the others. "Somehow I don't believe that." She then turned to him, referring to the 'relationship' Sherlock had claimed he and Irene had, that she wouldn't understand. Sherlock glanced up at her, looking rather naïve as to what they were talking about, which is almost unheard of for the world's only consulting detective.

Irene wasn't, however, and she was glad that after only two days in their presence, she was driving a wedge between them. She knew she was going to love having to constantly live with them for a while. Despite having numerous trained assassins after her, she was rather looking forward to the coming weeks ahead.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

**Quite a turn in events, huh? Sorry about the lack of a meal that Sherlock promised her, but somehow I don't think they're ever going to be able to have a meal together... Ahh, devious Fay! Hope you don't hate me too much for this. I'm just sending out vibes of love here so you know I don't hate _you. _It's not the best chapter, but I love showing how similar they are! So argumentative and compulsive! Don't you just love them?**

_**Fanfiction, Gwilwillith - We certainly do have to trust him, but I think it's going to be hard when he and Claudia refuse to stop arguing in the coming chapters, haha. ;-) X**_

_**Fanfiction, mariarosa – I have a feeling you'll hate Irene even more after that last little section. I'll have to make a good plan for Claudia's possible revenge on her... X**_

_**Fanfiction, CassiTTMMMSSPPJ – (Nice username) Glad you've liked the fluff so far! Sometimes I just need to write fluff! X**_

_**Wattpad, jbdonaldson0506 – Love comments like that one. Thank you! I'll try to write more fluff in upcoming chapters, as this one has only had a tiny little dashing of it! X**_

_**Fanfiction, LoveInChains – I'm not that good at updating though, I've been updating this fic almost every day, but I've got three others I'm neglecting because I can't tear myself away from Sherlock :-( X**_

_**Wattpad, Isie98 – Love it when people say they're cute together. Sometimes I worry that I go a bit OTT, but who doesn't like fluff? X**_

**I'm rather enjoying replying to comments and having interaction with you guys. Don't know why I've never done it before! -Fay xox**


	21. The Swimming Pool

The train journey to Chichester was laborious and long, and the small group had to change trains four times. This didn't add to Claudia's happiness, and her patience with her 'friends'. And John.

"This is the fifth train we've been on." Irene moaned as they collapsed in their first class seats (Paid for by Sherlock, obviously.) Irene was as weary as Claudia, so at least that was something.

"I think what I can deduce from today is that women are much less tolerant of _everything _than men." John said, closing his eyes as the girls' wining annoyed him again. Sherlock smirked at his friend but said nothing. He'd already felt the wrath of Claudia's anger that day, and he didn't want to feel any more. Irene was glaring at John for his sly comment, but surprisingly, Claudia let it slide.

"How long have we go left?" Claudia asked, finally accepting her Chichester fate and simply waiting for it all to end so she could go home.

"About half an hour." Sherlock said, taking the amount of trees and wildlife outside the train window as a notice that they were near. And about time, too. They'd been travelling all day, and he was starting to agree with the women that he was _bored. _

Claudia and Irene were sat next to each other, and were opposite John and Sherlock. Irene was furiously texting on her phone, and a suspicious Claudia inconspicuously glanced over to see what she was doing. Sherlock saw that, of course, and nudged her foot with his own. She glanced up to find him smirking at her. She looked down, ignoring him and tucking her feet under her chair.

Sherlock's smile fell and he returned to being rather serious instead.

"What a nice house." Claudia said, being sincere, as they looked at Mycroft's country house. Sherlock found himself smiling, although he wasn't quite sure why.

Irene was looking mildly disgusted around the place. The countryside.

"I can see you're happy, Irene." John said, being the first to move from the little line they'd formed outside of the house. He tried to the door.

"Key!" He exclaimed, holding his hand out. Sherlock threw the key over, and John unlocked the door and let them all in. "Very nice." He said, nodding as he led them through. "A nice place to hide away for a few weeks." He noted, looking at the various security devices. He opened a drawer to find a gun. He sighed and shut the drawer again.

"Is this the garage?" Irene asked, looking around the darkened house. Claudia frowned at her and switched the lights on, bathing the house in light and showing it for what it was. A very rich looking house.

"What do we do now?" John turned to Sherlock, as did all the others.

"We make food?" He asked, eyeing them up oddly and taking his seat in the living room, equipped with three large television's, and a few laptops dotted about the place.

"There's a pool!" Claudia exclaimed from a few doors down. Sherlock smiled fondly at her, before abruptly frowning. There he was again, letting his emotions take over. He didn't even fully understand his emotions, so why was he letting them rule his life?

He heard a splash and even he was intrigued. He found the pool in seconds, enclosed in a large room with dim lights. But it wasn't Claudia who had splashed in the pool. She was actually staring, angrily, at Sherlock. Irene had jumped in. Naked.

"If you think I'm living here with her for weeks, you're wrong." Claudia snapped, angry once more, pushing past Sherlock and causing him to move back slightly. She stormed into the living room and crashed on the couch, her eyes closed. Sherlock followed her, running a hand through his unruly hair as he heard Irene laugh behind him.

"Now... Hello. Yes. That's rather inappropriate." John said from further back. He'd also spotted Irene.

"I see you found a room." Sherlock said rather quietly. He hadn't been able to do anything properly knowing that Claudia was furious with him. He sat on the edge of her bed where she was reading and rubbing her still-sore leg. "I also see your leg's still hurting." He said when she didn't reply.

"Yes, once again, thanks for the ugly bruise on my leg." She quipped.

"It's not ugly." He said rather quickly, before looking down. "I think you _want _to be pissed off because it makes Irene know that you can bite too." He admitted.

"What?" She asked, finally looking up from her book. "She's honestly pissed me off, that's all." She sighed, not being able to stay mad at him. Damn his face. And his cheekbones. "She jumped into a swimming pool, naked, because I wanted to go in it!" She exclaimed.

"I'll tell her she's not allowed in the pool any more." Sherlock promised her, and Claudia grinned.

"Do you actually think this is going to work?" Claudia asked, her smile fading as she turned to him for answers, referring to the whole 'living in Chichester so Irene doesn't get killed' thing.

"I'm not sure." He admitted after a while. "I hope so. But a part of me thinks not." He allowed. Claudia nodded.

"What are we doing here?" She whispered. Sherlock looked pained.

"I don't know." He repeated, his voice a murmur in the quietness of the house.

"If I end up dead here because of you, I'm going to haunt you." She promised.

"I don't think I'd mind that." He said without thinking. He blushed and Claudia began to laugh at him, eyes wide as she pointed at him. He glared at her while she fell back onto the bed, laughing at the total line he just gave her.

"You little flirt!" She laughed, grinning at him. Sherlock tried to keep his frosty glare up, but it thawed when he realised she was laughing the first time that day and allowed himself to have a tiny little smile written on his lips.

"Isn't this cosy?" Irene asked, wearing a t-shirt and shorts as she leaned against Claudia's door with wet hair falling down her back.

"Irene." Sherlock warned, giving her a look that said- 'leave us alone for two minutes.'

She shrugged and slinked away, knowing she'd probably made Claudia go into a foul mood again.

"She did that on purpose." Sherlock told Claudia, before she got really mad.

"Obviously." Claudia smirked. "You'd best make this up to me, you know." She said.

"I've nothing to make up for. I'm potentially saving your life." He reminded her, eyes narrowing.

"Or potentially ending it." Claudia retorted.

"Touché." He allowed, standing up and leaving her bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Claudia groaned to herself and collapsed back onto her bed. Her argumentative mood had possible ruined everything she and Sherlock Holmes had built up.

She'd told him he could kill her. And that would have hurt him more than he'd care to admit.

"Knock knock." A much kinder voice said as the door reopened. "I've got jam!" He exclaimed happily, handing her some toast. She took it, smiling despite not really wanting to. She couldn't help it when her brother was involved.

"You should have a little apron." She joked quietly, smirking at herself.

"What?" John asked.

"Nothing." She told him, openly grinning. He smiled at her and ruffled her hair, acting as if he was sixty five. She shrugged him off and he did it again.

"Stop!" She exclaimed, as he continued to ruffle her hair. She then began laughing, which is what he'd wanted her to do all along. John did as he was told and instead got his iPod out of his pocket. He plugged it into the expensive looking docking station in her room and pressed play. Claudia smiled and groaned, knowing what song he would have chosen. The song he'd always played to cheer her up. Mr Blue Sky by ELO.

And then it began playing and she couldn't stop her ecstatic laughing. John joined her and stood up, offering her his hands. She took them and the siblings began dancing around the room, laughing as John began spinning her round. Claudia's hair was wild, tangled and falling into her face when Sherlock opened the door, looking rather annoyed. The Watson's stopped and stared at him.

"What on earth are you doing?" He asked lazily. The Watson's didn't answer and instead continued dancing, ignoring the consulting detective in the doorway. Sherlock leaned on the door frame, utterly emotionless, as he watched them. He knew what they were doing. John was cheering her up. And sadly, he thought that he would never be able to effortlessly cheer her up like John did. He shrugged and shut the door behind him.

"What's his problem?" Claudia asked as she collapsed onto her bed, tired out.

"Who knows." John smirked, nodding to her and following Sherlock out of the door. Claudia gazed up at the ceiling and smiled. What an utterly stupid but effective way of making her smile again. Good old John.

But, the more she thought about it, the more she didn't really know what _her _problem was. Yes, she'd been dragged away from her house. But she got to spend more time with Sherlock. And yes, Irene was putting them all in danger. But Sherlock had promised she'd be safe, and she trusted him, didn't she? Of course she did. It was hard not to. No, what was annoying her was the fact that Irene could walk all over Sherlock and Claudia couldn't. Irene could say anything, and Sherlock wouldn't argue with her. But he and Claudia were always arguing. He obviously had some deep set emotion for Irene that he wouldn't admit. But with Claudia, he had no emotion? She mused to herself with these things for a good ten minutes before she decided to forget about the both of them and instead, go for a swim!

Luckily, she had a few t-shirts and shorts with her, so she dressed into them and took a towel with her. As she came out of her bedroom, she found Irene doing exactly the same thing.

"You're more modestly dressed now, I see." Claudia noted as they both walked to the small pool together.

"Oh, yes." Irene smirked. "Although I don't see what your problem was." She added.

"My problem was..." Claudia was going to start shouting again but Irene's smile made her realise that she was joking. Irene slid her arm through Claudia's.

"We really got off on the wrong foot. I understand that you feel threatened by me. A relationship with Sherlock is always complex and hard, and I'm probably just making it harder. But, I was here first. So, actually, you're making mine and Sherlock's old relationship harder. Not the other way around." Irene then let her arm go as she jumped in the pool again. Claudia froze. She had been right. They did have an old relationship.

She dropped her towel and slid into the lukewarm water. Mycroft really did have too much money for his own good.

"See, some good old girl time. I'm not so bad, am I?" Irene batted her eyelids at Claudia, before smirking and diving under the water. When she emerged, she found Claudia glaring at her.

"Yes, you are." Claudia replied, causing Irene to laugh. Claudia also ducked under water, the sound of Irene's laugh resonating through the water like she was a million miles away. Claudia wished she _was. _

When she emerged, Irene was gone. Claudia looked around only to find a figure diving into the water from the board at the top of the pool. Irene had all the grace of a dolphin, smoothly slipping into the water with little splash. Claudia felt herself grow envious. She would never meet up to Irene's image, or devious personality. And wouldn't Irene be the type of girl to be with Sherlock?

She was dark, and intelligent, and had a small sense of humour. Wouldn't she be more suited to the detective than Claudia. Claudia was light, with dresses and a never-ending smile. She was more suited to... A librarian than Sherlock.

When Irene swam to Claudia, she had a question. "Tell me of your relationship with Moriarty." She ordered.

"No thank you." Claudia said.

"Go on. You were in a relationship with the normal version of him. What was it like?" She asked. "Before you even thought of coming to London."

"It was normal. All, trips to the cinema, meals out, walking through the park in summer. That type of thing. What did you expect us to do? Oh, one day we murdered a puppy and the next we poisoned a kitten." Claudia said sarcastically.

"Is that the worst possible thing you could think of?" Irene smirked. "Killing a puppy and a kitten?" She asked.

"Yes." Claudia said. "Because that's the difference between you and me. I don't pride myself on how gorily I think. I don't enjoy thinking of death, and I don't agree with people who _do _enjoy it."

"Don't you see? Sherlock does enjoy thinking of it." Irene retorted.

"But he solves the crime, too. And that makes up for the act of murder itself. Which he hasn't done, by the way. And yes, before you try to humiliate me further, don't even try asking me that." Claudia snapped.

"Ask you what?" Irene arched an eyebrow.

"Ask me if I know what he'd be like if he wasn't a detective. I know he'd be playing for the other team." She explained.

"What, he'd be gay?" Irene asked.

"Don't try to be funny, because you're not." Claudia informed her. "You can't pretend you know him more than I do, because neither of us know that much about him at all." She quipped, sliding out of the pool. She turned to the door, only to find him standing there.

"Why are you always stood in doorways?" She sighed, knowing he'd be upset by that. She seemed to be upsetting him a lot that day.

"I can't help it if I hear my name and go and investigate." He retorted.

"That's funny, because John and I didn't even mention you before but there you where, lurking." Claudia said, not able to hide her smile as she walked over to him, looking defiantly up at him.

"True. Maybe I just feel like my one of my two friends has deserted me." He whispered in her ear, so Irene wouldn't hear. Claudia froze.

"I haven't deserted you!" She shouted. Sherlock smiled at her. He was joking, too. She allowed herself to laugh, knowing that it would cheer him up from his lonely mood.

"Oh, stop flirting." Irene called over, smiling as she ducked underwater.

"We're not flirting." Sherlock grumbled.

"As if we would." Claudia said just as quiet and just as embarrassed as he was.

"Exactly." Sherlock nodded, straightening his usual purple shirt.

"Oh, look at yourselves." Irene hissed, smiling sadly at the both of them. She wasn't intending her smile to be quite so sad, but she couldn't help it.

"Don't be stupid." Sherlock told Irene, and Claudia nodded in agreement.

"Everyone sees it except you two." Irene laughed. How odd, neither of them understood their feelings.

**Sorry it's not had much action lately, but that's just the way the story's going! I tried to convey how both women have this mutual attraction to Sherlock, but both have their doubts. And Sherlock's just oblivious, as always. And, did anyone else like the John/Claudia dancing? I did! I thought it was sweet that he wanted to cheer her up, haha.**

**Anyway, keep the reviews coming guys.**

**xox**


	22. The Diamond Necklace

All was calm at the house in Chichester for around two days. And those two days had been mundane, boring and possibly suicidal for Sherlock. The man had shut himself away in his new bedroom, only coming out occasionally for cups of coffee and to glare at people. What had got him in a mood, nobody knew.

Irene wasn't much better. Constantly sulking, only talking to people when she wanted something. Although, that could have just been her natural homely personality shining through.

It was funny, the two most reluctant people to go to Chichester where the ones enjoying it the most. The Watson's weren't exactly having a brilliant time, but it wasn't as bad and boring as they'd both assumed.

But on that second day, all Hell broke less. They'd all been thinking of how calm everything seemed to be. They hadn't even heard from one assassin, let alone a large group of them like they expected. Of course, they were always careful. Never leaving the house or even leaving windows unlocked. They might as well have been back in London. Like Claudia had said many times, the whole thing seemed rather pointless. But Sherlock was adamant that they were safer there, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she trusted his decision completely.

And then that trust vanished when she walked into the living room to find the windows all smashed in and the furniture in there trashed. She'd been well told that the house was secure, but that had obviously been a lie. Either that, or someone stupid had turned the alarm off.

"Sherlock!" She yelled, glued to the spot and frightened to turn around, almost sure she could feel someone breathing down her neck.

"I'm busy!" He yelled back.

"I think you want to see this!" She shrieked. The urgency in her voice must have made him act quickly. He sensed the fear in her voice and grabbed his gun from his desk. He took off the safety and ran downstairs, only to find Claudia stood in a doorway, frozen to the spot.

He followed her line of vision and was surprised to find the trashed room.

"How did we not hear that?!" She asked.

"These walls are thick." He muttered. "Come on." He said calmly, leading her through the house.

"Irene's room first." Claudia said, launching herself up the stairs. She burst into Irene's room where she was sleeping.

"She might not be sleeping." Claudia said hollowly.

"I _was_ sleeping." Irene snapped from her bed.

"Irene, not the time. Get up. They're in the house." Sherlock told her. Irene jumped from her bed and joined Claudia, making the wise decision of standing _behind _the man with the gun. They decided next to go to John's bedroom. Claudia pushed the door open to find him reading.

"Come on. There's someone in the house." She said calmly. Her brother grabbed two guns from his chest of drawers. He kept one for himself and gave the other to Claudia.

"And what about me?" Irene asked.

"To be honest, Irene, I'd rather my sister was safe than you." John claimed, the three of them now pointing their guns out, for some reason protecting the woman in the middle of them.

"Whoever it is could be anywhere." Claudia said. Sherlock thought for a second, and the rest of the group knew he was thinking hard.

"The attic. Quiet enough that they can hide there, not so far away from Irene's room. A bullet through the right position in the ceiling could kill her quite easily." Sherlock explained, and Irene went paler than she already was.

"Let's go then." John said calmly and they made their way towards the spiral staircase leading into the bright attic. When they finally reached the door, Claudia was the one to open it again.

And as Sherlock had assumed, two men were casually stood there, their guns also outstretched. A man barked avidly at them in French, looking furious. Irene withered visibly.

"Everyone, meet Irene Adler's angry lover." Sherlock said wryly. Claudia tilted her head. Not the man she'd been expecting.

He was rather old, with a receding hair line and grey streaks running through his brunette hair. He had a rather rotund figure, and blood red cheeks. Almost purple, rather, as the blood vessels had exploded in his cheeks through excessive eating and drinking. He was practically bursting out of his well made and expensive suit.

"He wants to say this- 'Squire Henrie would like to make a preposition with Irene Adler." The man by his side said, speaking in broken English with an accent. He'd obviously been appointed 'Squire Henrie's' translator.

All eyes turned to Irene, who shrugged helplessly. "I haven't actually done anything." She claimed rather weakly, and they all knew that was a lie.

"Give him whatever you took, back." Claudia ordered. Sherlock smiled rather proudly at her. He'd taught her well.

"How do you know I took something?" Irene questioned. Claudia's eyes flashed to Sherlock, ready for him to explain. But he gave her a look that said 'Go ahead.'

"Well, I don't know for sure. But, you're clutching something rather tightly in your hands. I'm assuming you don't want to part with it." She said. Irene sighed.

"Well, that was easy." Irene replied.

"Not just that." Claudia said self-consciously. "This whole thing seems extravagant. I think you've stolen something much more valuable than his heart." She concluded. "It's a jewel." She then realised. Sherlock smiled at her and nodded. John patted her back proudly.

"Oh, fine. No need to make a preposition. Here." Irene spat, tossing the rather large and shiny diamond to the Squire. He caught it, breathing out rather happily as he turned it over in his hands. It shined and sparkled so beautifully that Claudia felt her eyes drawn to it.

The Squire then did something rather odd. He threw the diamond to the ground, causing it to smash into tiny pieces. His translator then bent down and picked something tiny up, glancing at it under the light.

He said something in French to his boss, who then grunted and took it from him.

"What is it?" John asked.

"A memory card." Irene said. "It had a rather awful... Role-play video of us on it. It showed him beating me, but obviously, that was all the fun. I made myself look like I was being forced into it, then stole it. I had the intent of taking it to the police and suing him for everything he's got. Forcing a girl to do such things, they would have been shocked." Irene explained. "But he took it from me and encased it in that diamond, thinking I wouldn't know where it had gone. When I left, I found it and took it with me." Irene smiled.

"Your plan wouldn't have worked. Everyone knows your profession, _Dominatrix._" Sherlock spat.

"Ah, I got my _employer _to erase every mention of my name from the internet, and get rid of any reviews I have acquired. Irene Adler, Dominatrix, was temporarily wiped away from the internet. I could have gained millions from this, and split it with my _employer._"She spat.

"And on that note, we'll be leaving now." Claudia said, glad that she seemed the bigger lady out of the two of them.

"Oh no you don't. If you leave me, I'll surely be killed this time. You wouldn't be able to help me." She cried, eyes wide.

Squire Henrie muttered something under his breath.

"Uh, Henrie would like to say that you could live with him once more, Mademoiselle Adler. You'd be under his full protection." The translator said sheepishly.

"Have you been translating everything we've said?" Claudia asked. The translator nodded. "Well, why does he still want her? He's heard her plan." She cocked her head to the side.

"Let's just say that Irene Adler could make him forget about that in seconds." The translator said, blushing slightly as the gaze of Irene hit him in full force.

"Go on then, you go with him and we leave for London." Sherlock smiled insincerely. He began to walk away. John and Claudia followed, but when they walked out of the room, he rushed back into the room alone. He bent down and picked a few things up, before pocketing them, blowing a kiss to Irene and leaving.

The last time he'd ever see Irene Adler, and she was as red as a fire engine and as angry as a wasp.

The train rides home were nowhere near as awful as the journey there. Claudia was in a much better mood, mostly because Irene was gone. Partly because Sherlock was happy to sit next to her this time, and John was asleep, his head pressed against the window. It left the two of them to talk about the few days they'd spent in Hell.

"Why did you drag us there? We could have done exactly the same thing at home." Claudia reasoned. Sherlock looked pained for a second.

"I suppose I didn't know what to do." He admitted, his eyes closed as he spoke such intense words. "I thought if we stayed in London, we'd be constantly shot at. I was sure it would kill one of us. Hopefully Irene, but a bullet could have hit you. I thought to get away would be to protect you." He explained. He finally opened his eyes but didn't look at her. Claudia grinned, openly smiling at him to show that his words weren't as awful as he made them out to be.

"You were _worried_ about me?" She demanded, her silly smile still on her lips. Sherlock nodded.

"I suppose." He allowed, shrugging. Claudia linked her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. He sat rigidly for a few minutes before relaxing and letting his arm slowly creep around her shoulder, hugging her to him.

"It was horrible having her around." Claudia sighed.

"I know." Sherlock agreed, his eyes closed once more. "I'm glad she's gone, although I thought we'd be lumbered with her for a lot longer." He admitted.

"I would have killed myself." Claudia said. "Or you." She then allowed, at exactly the same time that Sherlock mouthed 'Or me' along with her.

"I thought you were in love with her." Claudia said, sitting up and trying to get him to look her in the eye, which he didn't.

"Why would you think that?" He asked, adjusting his scarf slightly to give him more room to breathe. He'd just gotten rather hot under the collar, so to speak.

"You kept staring at her. You know, dreamily." Claudia said dramatically and Sherlock laughed bemusedly at her.

"Because I looked at her?" He finally seemed to relax and he looked at her. She nodded, grinning.

"Trust me, I do not love her. I never have, and I never will." He promised her. Claudia's smile grew softer and she nodded at him.

"I have something for you." He then suddenly said, pulling out a box from his pocket. Inside was a Venetian yellow gold chain. With no pendant. Claudia watched as he took out a handful of diamonds from his coat pocket. He laid them out of the table in front of them and then took out a tiny jewellers knife. Something he'd picked up from Chris Quentin when they'd been there. He got to work, carefully carving into the larger diamond.

"I didn't know you were a jeweller." Claudia told him.

"I'm not. I'm just good at things." He said arrogantly. Claudia rolled her eyes at that comment. His work was taking a long time, and by the time he finished and sat up abruptly, she'd almost been asleep.

"I've done it." He said. She looked at the piece in his hand. On the chain now nestled a large diamond, one of the purest in the world she was later told, from a French Squire himself. None of that mattered. What mattered to her was the time and precision gone into the item, the security of it was astounding. It was tightly secure in its claws, the metal bending around it just enough to hold the jewel in place, not too tight as to drown the jewel in gold. The casing was then moulded in a loop around the Venetian chain. He'd picked all the pieces up from Chris Quentin, and the rest, he'd figured out himself.

The thing that she liked the most was the tiny 'C' carved into the diamond in beautiful typography. Sherlock had done it. Just then. On a moving train. And he hadn't messed up once.

She grinned at the piece in awe, and he clasped the chain around her neck.

"I promised you a new necklace." He reminded her.

"I can't believe you just did this. On a moving train. With someone watching you. And with no training as a jeweller." She gushed, picking up the weighty diamond and looking at her carved initial.

"Do you not like it? That necklace you're wearing is the most expensive and valuable necklace in the world. That diamond was the purest diamond you could get. Makes you wonder how bad that video was that made Henrie smash it up." Sherlock frowned, mistaking her happiness with disappointment. What Sherlock didn't know was that the cost and preciousness of the necklace didn't bother her. What bothered her was that he made it, and he put the time and thought in to make it for her. Especially for her. You wouldn't catch anyone else in the world wearing the same necklace as her, and that thought made her glow.

"It's wonderful. You're wonderful." She promised him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She then changed her mind, however, and pressed her lips to his.


	23. The Escalation

"What is that around your neck?" John asked as he finally woke up half an hour later. He yawned and eyed it up with suspicion.

"A present." Sherlock said, sounding defensive of it.

"From you?" John smirked, looking between the two of them. Claudia was chewing her gum innocently.

"Yes, from me." Sherlock snapped. John guffawed, rubbing his left eye with his index finger, bemused.

"I don't think I can do anything to stop the two of you anymore, can I? You're a force of your own." John sighed, giving up with them both.

"Don't know what you mean." Claudia said, blowing a bubble with her gum. John frowned at her whilst Sherlock looked mildly disgusted. "Oh, look. We're at our last stop." She said hurriedly, not wanting to get into an awkward conversation.

While Claudia went down the aisle to retrieve her suitcase, both men watched her go.

"You've turned her into you." John accused.

"I know. Wonderful, isn't it?" Sherlock smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "Let's go." He then said, grabbing his bag from the rail above their heads. "Need help getting yours down? It may be too high for you to reach." Sherlock teased. John glared at him and tried to get it, but his shortness kept him from reaching it.

"Yes, I need your help." He snapped, blushing slightly. Sherlock looked bemusedly at the man and got the bag down for him.

"What are we waiting for?" Claudia called over from the doors, annoyed. The men followed her, back out into the misty London day.

"It's good to be home." John sighed happily, smelling the crisp air.

"Indeed." Sherlock mumbled his agreement, texting on his phone adamantly.

"Who're you texting?" Claudia asked. Not horribly, simply wondering.

"Lestrade. He wants to know if we're back yet." He explained.

"No. No no no. We're not getting involved in a case now. We've just got back." John groaned, knowing that his next few weeks would consist of blood and pain, probably.

"That's not it at all. He wants to let us know that nothing has happened while we've been away." Sherlock said innocently.

"And what did you reply?" Claudia asked, smirking. She knew exactly what he would have texted back, and it wouldn't have been nice.

"Who do you take me for? I do read newspapers." Sherlock read from the text he'd just sent to to the detective inspector. John laughed gently while Claudia's smile widened into a grin.

"So what are we going to do now, if there's nothing to do?" She asked, sounding somewhat freaked out by the notion. They were temporarily out of Moriarty's game until further notice, they had no Irene Adler living with them, London was being dull and drab and they had absolutely nothing to do.

The only cases that would be presented were mundane ones, and John knew what that meant. Hiding certain drugs from Sherlock so he didn't get addicted again.

Baker Street was eerily quiet without Irene Adler fussing around in next to nothing. The group sat in silence in the living room. Sherlock was staring into space, John was typing for his blog and Claudia was absently playing with the diamond placed weightily on her neck.

"It's kicking in already." Sherlock said, immediately standing up and reaching into his pocket.

"Sherlock." John warned, looking up from his laptop and glaring at the gangly man. Sherlock pulled out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth, dragging sweetly on it, well aware that both Watson's were watching. Claudia smirked. John glared.

"Give it to me." He said, standing up and holding his hand out. It was like babysitting a grown man.

"No." Sherlock blew smoke into his face.

"Give it to me or I tell Claudia to move out." John warned. Claudia frowned.

"I wouldn't even if you told me to." She informed her brother, not helping him on his quest of ridding Sherlock of his addiction. Sherlock smiled angelically at her before sitting back down and taking another drag.

"Please." John tried.

"No." Sherlock replied after a second. "You can't stop me. I'm bored already. I need fuel to stimulate the mind. This helps." He said, motioning to the cigarette in his hand.

"If he wants to ruin his lungs, then let him." Claudia said with a wave of her hand. John shook his head.

"I've been doing this for nearly two years." He said adamantly. "Give it to me." He said, standing over Sherlock.

"Just this one." Sherlock said. John shrugged and lunged into Sherlock's pocket, grabbing the little box and stamping on them. He then scrunched the box up even more and launched it into the fire, where he would later be burning them.

"Witness." Sherlock nodded to Claudia, who saluted him. The whole thing was rather amusing, although she had to admit, the smell of smoke on his wasn't attractive. She looked at her brothers helpless look and decided to help.

"I will never kiss him again, John. Don't worry. I can't stand the taste of smoke." Claudia told her brother before walking into the kitchen, grinning to herself as she did so. John was thankful for her help, and looked insistently at Sherlock who glared at the doctor and threw the cigarette onto the floor where he then stamped on it.

"Better." John said, throwing a box of nicotine patches at him. The man immediately put one on. He then realised what that meant. "You did that so you could kiss my sister!" John realised. Sherlock shrugged.

"Not necessarily. It will be beneficial to my health. Stop seeing the bad in people all the time." He chided. John rolled his eyes and sat back down, trying not to get too mad.

John had a date. His first date since Claudia had started living with them. The only problem he had with this little arrangement was that he would be leaving Claudia and Sherlock together, and God knows what they'd do. You couldn't leave them alone for two minutes without something _weird _happening between the two of them.

"Please, Holmes. Just leave her alone, for one minute. You concentrate on something else other than my sister." John begged with his friend. Sherlock shrugged.

"I don't see what your problem is." Sherlock then snapped, before dramatically falling onto the couch with a sigh.

"Just... Just keep away." John said as he opened the door for his date. "This is Kate. Kate this is my friend, Sherlock." He introduced. Sherlock took one glance at her.

"How's your ex-boyfriend that you're still having casual sex with?" He asked, eyeing her up. Kate froze, staring at the man as if he was psychic.

"Sherlock." John said through gritted teeth. He knew what the detective was doing. He wanted Kate to run away in tears or something to that extent, so he could have both Watson's to himself.

"Ignore him. He thinks he's funny." Claudia grinned as she walked into the room. Sherlock glared at Claudia before closing his eyes. Kate seemed to look happier when Claudia came into sight.

"Yeah, because _that _wasn't true." Kate said shakily, pointing at the detective.

"Kate, this is my sister Claudia." John said awkwardly. Claudia smiled and went to the couch. John and Kate watched as Claudia smacked Sherlock's legs. John assumed that Sherlock wouldn't move a muscle. Instead, he lifted his legs up so she could sit down. When she did so, he then lowered his legs onto her lap.

Kate smiled at the couple, thinking them to be in a relationship. "So how long have you been together?" Kate asked.

"We're not together." Claudia said awkwardly.

"Yes, it's just a case of _casual sex._" John said, glaring at Sherlock.

"It isn't." Claudia reassured Kate, who looked awkward and as if she wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Let's get going." John said. Kate nodded eagerly and the two of them left. John looked pointedly at Claudia before shutting the door.

It was a look that said – 'Please don't do anything with him.'

"John doesn't want us to spend time together tonight, does he?" Claudia asked Sherlock, who opened his eyes.

"No." He agreed. "But who ever listens to John?" He smiled.

"Me." Claudia said, lifting his legs up again and standing up. She then let them drop on the couch. "My leg's hurting and I'm going to read." She told him. Sherlock looked like a puppy who'd just been denied a biscuit as she left him alone.

Five minutes later he wished that she had gone out instead. She was blasting music rather loudly, and Sherlock wasn't in agreement with it.

He tried to put up with it, for her. But there came a point where he couldn't handle the loudness anymore, so he knocked on her door. No answer. So he opened the door. She was reading, as she said she would be.

"I doubt you're really reading with that much noise. You'd be distracted." Sherlock told her lazily.

"I am. See." Claudia said, looking intensley at her book.

"Liar." He told her. "Turn it down." He said. Claudia shook her head. "I'll turn it down for you." He promised her, feeling anger build up. Claudia casually reached to her dresser and picked the remote up, before shoving it down her top. She finally looked up at him, a smirk on her face.

"I don't think you will." She told him.

"That wouldn't stop me." Sherlock insisted. Claudia shrugged, and went back to her book.

Sherlock walked over to her, towering over her. "I'll do it." He said.

"I'm not scared of you." Claudia muttered, looking up at him again. It was her teasing tone that made him do it. He reached down her shirt and pulled the remote out. Claudia looked shocked.

"Sherlock!" She exclaimed.

"I did tell you." He reminded her, turning the music off. He then put the remote in his back pocket and walked back out into the living room, shutting her bedroom door behind her. Claudia glanced at the door in shock.

She rushed from her room and into the living room, where Sherlock was smiling at her angelically. She smiled back, leaning on the doorframe.

"Give it back." She said sweetly. He shook his head.

"I don't think you will." He said, copying what she'd said just moments before.

"Please." She said, batting her eyes at him. Sherlock looked physically in pain at her sad expression. She walked over to him and put her hand on his knee, knowing it would freak him out. "Sherlock." She whispered. Without tearing his eyes from hers, he gave her the remote back. She then smiled.

"You don't know the effect you have on me. It's quite unusual. Is that something everyone feels?" He asked her. Claudia laughed, returning to normal and sitting down on the couch next to him.

"Probably." She assured him. "Will you tell me how you knew that girl was sleeping with her ex?" She asked, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"She was wearing a bracelet with the words 'To Kate, with love, Danny.' Of course, this could be from her brother or cousin or similarly, but there was an infinity symbol on it, a bracelet that you would only give to a girlfriend." Sherlock said, subconsciously eyeing up the diamond on Claudia's chest. She was still wearing it, he noted proudly. "Why would she wear a bracelet from a boyfriend she is clearly no longer with? And the next bit was a leap of faith. She must be sleeping with him. She wears that bracelet everytime she goes and sees Danny, so that she seems honest or faithful or something to that extent. I said it, gauged her reaction, and I was correct." Sherlock shrugged.

"You got all of that from a bracelet?" Claudia grinned. Sherlock nodded. "Amazing." She told him.

"It must be a Watson thing to compliment unnecessarily." Sherlock sighed.

"Don't think so little of yourself." Claudia said, kissing his cheek and leaning her head on the couch, gazing at him. "I think you do that a lot. When you're on your own. You criticise yourself, and make yourself feel inferior. But you're not. All of your big headedness is just for show." She said gently. Sherlock shrugged and looked at her.

"And how did you deduce that?" He asked quietly.

"I just guessed." Claudia admitted. Sherlock smiled at her.

"That's a good way of doing things." He allowed, "But if you really want to deduce people you should read more detective novels to try and get a better sense for it. And when they teach you nothing, you should come and ask me. You see things, Claude, but you don't necessarily fit the pieces together, which is what you-" His nervous rambling was cut off when she kissed him.

She could feel his smile in their kiss, and his hand getting knotted in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tighter, so much so that they were almost lying on the couch. Sherlock adjusted his weight, so he was leaning over her instead of crushing her. Claudia moaned satisfactorially, and moved a hand into his marvellous hair, her other moving to the golden buttons on her shirt.

"Wait." Sherlock mumbled.

"What?" Claudia asked quietly. His hands reached around her neck and unclasped the diamond necklace from her neck, before putting it on the coffee table.

"Don't want to crush it." He told her, before kissing her again. Claudia succeeded in taking her shirt off, and Sherlock did the same.

"Come on." Claudia said, standing up, smiling seductively down at him. Sherlock followed, shirtless and flushed. He grasped her hand and they both made their way to his bedroom.

"Well, that escalated quickly." He told her, kissing her neck gently before shutting his bedroom door gently.

**Phew. Steamy. I obviously didn't want to get into crude detail of what happened because I find that cheap, but there you go. Fourth base. Go Sherlock! Hope you liked it. **

_**Fanfiction- kcollins720 – Ah, maybe, maybe not. ;-) Maybe in the sequel...**_

_**Fanfiction- loveinchains – I had enough of Irene too, she had to go! **_

_**Fanfiction- mariarosa – No Irene for a long time. And lots of Sherlock/Claudia fluff! **_

_**Wattpad- DanaValerie – Thanks! Hope you like the fluff in this one too! ;-)**_

_**Wattpad- TeamFang11 – Glad you found it so adorable. I aim to please!**_

**Much love as ever, please continue to review! -Fay xox**


	24. The Aftermath

Claudia awoke in the morning to the sound of banging and crashing in the living room. What the hell was Sherlock doing? Oh no, it couldn't have been Sherlock in there, as he was still asleep next to her.

Her eyes widened as she realised that fact and she turned to him, finally noticing that they were both scantily clad in bed together. And they'd had sex the previous night. And now she was blushing and couldn't control it because she was certain that both of her and Sherlock's shirts were on the floor in the living room.

She began to panic. John was banging in the living room. John knew. Her blush grew deeper the more she panicked. What would be thinking about her? That she just slept with anyone? No! Sherlock Holmes was incredibly different.

"I sorted it already, you know. You don't have to panic." Sherlock said next to her, his eyes still firmly closed.

"What?" Claudia whispered.

"Stop panicking because when you fell asleep last night I picked our shirts up. John doesn't know." Sherlock assured her. Claudia audibly sighed with relief and allowed her cheeks to cool down slightly.

"Well, why's he banging about?" Claudia then demanded.

"Kate." Sherlock told her.

"How do you know? You're still half-asleep." Claudia smirked.

"Claudia. I'm a world class detective. It doesn't take much to figure out what happened last night." Sherlock finally opened his eyes and looked at her, causing her to blush once more. He then stood up and left his bedroom, dressed only in his underwear and a t-shirt. Claudia leaped from his bed and pulled one of shirts over her head and peeked out of the door to see where John was.

Upon seeing no John in sight, she sped into the bathroom, where she shut and locked the door.

She turned the light on and glanced around the room. She looked in the sink and her eyes widened.

A small collection of hearts were stacked in the sink. Sometimes she hated living with bloody Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock!" She shouted, and she heard him padding to the bathroom. She unlocked the door for him and he walked in, his eyes betraying his tiredness. "Please get them out. Why do you do all this in the bathroom?" She demanded.

"John told me to. Apparently it's unhygienic to do my experiments in the kitchen. And now you're telling me not to do them in the bathroom. Where do you want me to do them?!" Sherlock grumbled.

"Your bedroom!" Claudia exclaimed. "Actually, no." She grimaced, and Sherlock smirked at her. "You did this last night, didn't you?" She asked. He nodded. "Do you always do that after.. Uh?" She asked, blushing once more as she recalled the previous night.

"I'll be taking these, then." Sherlock gestured to the hearts.

"Yeah, just avoid my question, that's fine." She shrugged. And then she realised something. "Unless you haven't- Oh. No!" Claudia shook her head, trying not to think what she was thinking. "You haven't had sex before, have you?" She asked, feeling incredibly special. "Not even with Irene?" she asked and Sherlock shook his head. "Oh, this is Christmas!" She laughed.

"How considerate of you." Sherlock snapped.

"Ah, you know what I mean." She grinned.

"Was I... Um.." Sherlock struggled for the right words. Something he only seemed to do around Claudia.

"Yes." She said quietly. "You were better than Moriarty." She whispered, and a goofy smile spread on Sherlock's face. They both then turned their attention to the hearts in the sink, both of them trying to hide their blush.

"Why have you stabbed them all?" Claudia asked, noticing a thin and sharp stick of glass sticking out of each heart.

"There's a serial killer around. Intent on murder without leaving any evidence and no apparent cause of death. But I found it." Sherlock said proudly, motioning toward the hearts.

"How did you find it?" Claudia asked.

"I went out to investigate early this morning." Sherlock replied. Claudia look surprised. She'd been asleep in his bed without him and she hadn't even noticed. "Is that a problem?" Sherlock then asked quickly.

"No." Claudia told him.

"Good." Sherlock replied awkwardly. "Lestrade called me. It was urgent. This all happened this morning. Three people all died, same cause of death. None." Sherlock explained. Claudia nodded gravely. "I inspected the bodies, and each had a tiny shard of glass in their heart. To small and thin to see properly, but obviously there nonetheless." He shrugged.

"Very good. So what do you do next?" Claudia asked, this being the first murder-mystery case she would be on.

"Find background information on all of the victims and try and find a common link." John said from the bathroom door, he'd been listening to them. Luckily for them, he hadn't heard anything about what they'd done last night.

"Well done. I have taught you something." Sherlock complimented

"Claude, why are you wearing one of Sherlock's shirts?" John asked, frowning.

"It's comfortable." Claudia made up, shrugging nonchalantly. John nodded, not believing her, but really not wanting to ask.

"At least you gave me three days rest." John sighed. "When are you dragging us to Lestrade?" John folded his arms and leaned against the door.

"Whenever you want." Sherlock lied.

"Which means?" John urged.

"In about an hour." He said, smiling lightly and ruffling Claudia's hair before leaving the Watson's to it.

"Annoying, isn't he?" John asked.

"Yep." Claudia grinned, ruffling her brothers hair and then leaving him to it too.

"Annoying, isn't she?" John muttered to himself, cursing Sherlock for creating a minion for himself out of his sister.

"Victim number one. Caroline Calder. 43. Long term wife of victim number two. Has three children and is one of London's elite. Very rich, very stable and apparently, very happy." Lestrade pointed at the first woman, who was thankfully covered by a sheet as the trio looked upon them all.

"Victim number two. Frederic Calder. 47. Not as happy as his wife and had been apparently sleeping with a hooker.

Victim number three. Daniel Montague. 21. In university, studying Biology. Nothing out of the ordinary, no family problems, no relationship problems. Doesn't have a girlfriend, nothing like that." Lestrade talked them through everyone, before turning to Sherlock- stumped.

"And you say their cause of death was needle in the heart?" He then asked.

"I showed you the proof. Obviously that was their cause of death." Sherlock mumbled. Lestrade rolled his eyes.

"I was just securing it." Lestrade snapped back.

"You can leave it with us. I'm sure we'll find a lot more information than you. Could I have the addresses of the victims and the clothes they were wearing when they died, including any bags or phones." Sherlock said systematically. Lestrade sighed for the second time in a minute and nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, God. Not the monkey and his clown again." A man frowned, walking into the room with surgical gloves on and looked rather dismayed.

"Shut up, Anderson. Go back to your nursery and continue learning the alphabet." Sherlock said scornfully. Claudia also found herself glaring at Anderson.

"Oh, but they've got a little friend." Anderson said, trying to put his best flirting face on and smoothly walking over to Claudia, who glared at the hand he held out, wanting her to shake it.

"That's my sister, be careful mate." John snapped. Anderson retracted his hand and walked away, blushing slightly at his rejection. Sherlock smiled to himself- proud of her.

"Anderson, tell Donovan to give Sherlock everything the victims were carrying and wearing last night." Lestrade ordered, not looking forward to the obvious argument that was going to ensue.

Surprisingly, instead of aiming an insult at Sherlock, he did as he was told.

"He's embarrassed." Claudia laughed. Sherlock had the oddest impulse to grab her hand and hold it right there but he fought it off. Imagine the rumours that would spread.

Donovan walked in this time, and begrudgingly handed the items – all in clear bags - to Sherlock, who took then and handed them to John, who sighed.

"Odd how you found those glass shards, isn't it Sherlock? When nobody else could." Donovan accused.

"Maybe your mind is so underdeveloped that you couldn't even get your eyes to focus on the body properly. That's why _you_ missed an obvious detail." Claudia snapped, feeling the oddest impulse to stick up for Sherlock. John sighed. _Here we go. _

"Who's this?" Sally asked Lestrade, sounding bemused.

"Claudia Watson." Claudia said, smiling falsely.

"Another Watson. Little Watson." Sally smirked, and Claudia frowned, looking at Sherlock- as if he would help her. Which he did.

"Have you met Anderson's wife yet, Sally? I have. She's boring. I could introduce you. Maybe point out the similarities in yours and Anderson's choice of scent." Sherlock raised his eyebrows. Sally glared at him and stormed off. Claudia hid her grin and looked at the white ground.

"Piss off!" They heard Sally shout when she was quite far away down the hall. John was smirking, and even Lestrade had a little glint in his eye.

"Have you got everything you need?" Lestrade asked. "I'll text you the addresses." He added.

"Got everything, thank you." Sherlock said quickly.

"Thanks for coming in so early this morning. I appreciate it, even if the others don't." Lestrade admitted. Sherlock nodded and led the others away.

"Let's get out before Molly corners us." John whispered to Claudia.

"Who's Molly?" Claudia asked.

"She works in the morgue." John replied. "Hopelessly in love with him." He motioned to Sherlock.

"Ah.. Sherlock!" A quiet voice exclaimed from before them, and John sighed. "And she's here." He groaned.

"Hello, Molly." Sherlock said pleasantly.

"How are you- And who's this?" She asked the detective gently, looking at Claudia with an obvious lack of self-confidence.

"Claudia. John's sister." Claudia smiled, shaking Molly's hand. Molly seemed to brighten at that, and even smiled happily at her.

"Did you need anything or-" Molly bumbled.

"We were just leaving." Sherlock told her rather sharply. Claudia felt lucky that he didn't speak to her like he did to Molly. She didn't think she'd be able to handle that.

"Ah. Cool. See you later!" She called after them, as they all walked away without even saying a proper goodbye. Claudia felt awful for doing so, and waved at the girl before leaving.

"The most awkward and painful conversations I've ever had the misfortune of hearing have been because of her." John told Claudia while Sherlock walked a few paces ahead. "And it's not her who's been awful. She's quite alright. But he uses her feelings against her and can be quite horrible to her." John explained. Claudia frowned. She hadn't seen that side of Sherlock before. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

The first thing they did was return to their flat and search through their clothing and possessions. Claudia didn't feel entirely comfortable with that, searching through a dead persons clothes, but she knew she must if she was to keep up with Sherlock and John.

She was looking through Daniels phone. The 21 year old with no girlfriend.

"Well, he certainly makes it up to himself for having no girlfriend." Claudia whistled through her teeth and she searched through the internet history on his phone. "He must have really, _really _liked porn." She muttered, mildly disgusted at some of the things he'd been searching for. Sherlock peered at the phone and even he had a look of disgust on his face. And he'd seen many things.

"That could be important." He told himself. Probably filing it away in his mind, Claudia thought.

Well she hoped he wasn't filing away the images, as some of them were far too rude for his innocent mind. She wanted to laugh at her own joke, but it obviously wasn't the time.

"Does he have anything else on there?" Sherlock asked as he turned back to checking the pockets of a coat.

"Hold on." She said, and began searching through messages and emails, contacts and photographs. Nothing too bad. "There are a lot of girls phone numbers on here." She said simply, thinking maybe it could add up to something. "In fact- there are _only _girls phone numbers on here." She corrected, getting to the end of his contact list and feeling confused. Surely he must have some male friends?

Sherlock took the phone from her and looked through.

"That could be important too." He told the others, and John nodded and continued rummaging through a suitcase.

"A lot of money in here. Just loose money. Not stored in anything or hidden away. Looks like it's already been searched." John said. "Think it's Lestrade?" He asked.

"No, they hadn't looked at anything yet." Sherlock replied, also looking at the large amount of money hidden among clothes and various other things in the suitcase.

"Someone's been routing." Claudia said, and put the phone on the floor, not really wanting to continue searching through the internet history.

"Seems that way." John nodded. "Unless he was in a rush when packing." He then thought.

"Plausible. Maybe he knew the murderer was coming for him and knew he needed to go on the run." Sherlock reasoned. He then noticed something amongst the clothes and picked it up. A phone number on a small piece of paper.

"Claude, look for this number on Daniels phone." Sherlock said quickly, reading the number to her. She tapped it in and sure enough, a girls name came up.

"Rosa." She read, handing the phone over. Sherlock took it and looked, before putting it near the phone number. "Important?" She asked Sherlock. Sherlock looked at her and smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Very." He told her gently.

**Hey! **

**Hope you liked it! I was subtly trying to put a bit of imagery in there that I hope you picked up on, haha. I was kinda trying to make out that the whole stabbed hearts thing could refer to how suddenly Sherlock's romantic life has changed without him necessarily wanting it to. This could leave him with a stabbed or broken heart without him even realising. Or Claudia could be left with a broken heart without him noticing, which would probably be more plausible. And he'd been stabbing hearts all morning...**

**But yeah, I was kind of referring to Sherlock as having like a cupids arrow through his heart.**

**Aaaanyway, please review, you know it makes me smile!**

**-Fay xox**


	25. Lock and Key

"What do we do next?" John asked. "Find this 'Rosa' girl and ask her about Daniel?" He looked at the phone number he was still holding that he'd found in Daniel's bag.

"You and Claude do that, I'm going to the Calder's house." Sherlock nodded, slipping his phone into his coat pocket and looping his scarf back around his neck.

"But how do we find her?" Claudia shouted after him rather desperately. Obviously she wanted him to stay, John thought wryly.

"Ring the number." Sherlock said, frowning at her apparent lack of intellect.

"Oh. Yeah." Claudia bumbled, and for one horrifying moment – not that Molly Hooper was horrifying – she _did _sound like Molly. Sherlock wasn't going to turn Claudia into Molly, was he?

Sherlock nodded at them before kicking the door with the back of his heel and leaving, allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

"You can ring her. I wouldn't know what to say." Claudia insisted.

"Great." John sighed, snatching Daniel's phone from her and dialling Rosa's number.

"Speak in Spanish. Rosa sounds like a Spanish name." Claudia grinned, and John rolled his eyes at her and swatted her away.

Finally, 'Rosa' answered the phone.

"Oh... Yes. Hello. This is John Watson, I'm working on the case of Daniel's death and was wondering if you could help us with a few things." John said.

"I haven't done anything, if that's what you're thinking." Rosa replied, panicking somewhat on the other end. "I'm actually rather shocked by the whole thing." She then said.

"I'm sure you are, and I'm sure you'd like to help. Would it be possible if we could meet up with you as soon as possible?" John asked, cringing as he spoke. He knew that could possibly have sounded creepy. A stranger asking to meet up.

"Uh... If it'll help. Where should I meet you?" Rosa asked.

"221B Baker Street. There's a café nearby that we can chat in. See you then." John hung up.

"Was she Spanish?" Claudia asked, slipping her shoes back on and tying her hair up.

"No." John told her dryly, also putting his shoes back on.

Five minutes later and they heard two pairs of footsteps walking up the stairs. Mrs Hudson poked her head through the door first, smiling worriedly as she usually did. And then came Rosa.

She reminded John of Irene Adler, on that first time they met, when she was wearing nothing. For Rosa was only wearing a tanned jacket, barely covering her up. The girl smiled at them both, and Claudia grimaced slightly.

"You called?" She grinned, and Mrs Hudson simply looked surprised at the Watson's.

Sherlock received the Calder's address from Lestrade, and headed in that direction. Lestrade was right. They were incredibly rich. Their house was practically a mansion, even bigger than Mycroft's house in Chichester. Two police men were stood with folded arms outside of the door, warding thieves off. With no owners, it was vulnerable to burglars.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock told them. The men sighed. They'd obviously met him before.

"Go on." The man on the left said, opening the front door for him. "There's no point trying to stop you." He allowed. Sherlock glared at him before shoving past and into Calder's house.

What exactly was he looking for? Anything unusual, he supposed.

And straight away, he found something unusual. Without even really looking. A door with a padlock tightly locked near the handle of the door, with then five other locks securing the door shut. It was a good job he'd brought a few things to pick doors with. He pulled the little kit from his pocket, and, using two metal tools, he carefully worked every single lock open, until the door was free to use again.

He put the kit away and went into the room, which looked perfectly ordinary to the untrained eye. To Sherlock's eye, however, he could see everything. A multitude of expensive and new gadgets, some still in their boxes. Five different but identical phones on the desk. And on that same desk, yet more locked things. Each drawer had a lock on to stop them from being opened. Sherlock opened them in a few seconds. And just as he assumed, each of the four drawers was stuffed to the top with cash. Millions of pounds must have been piled up in those drawers. No wonder there was all the locks keeping intruders away. Well, intruders other than Sherlock Holmes, obviously.

He moved away from the money and went to the gadgets. Three new looking mobiles and four land line phones. He checked through the messages of one of the mobiles. All messages to a girl.

He had a conclusion already. Mr Calder was making money from prostitution.

He looked through the next phone and his thoughts were confirmed. He was pimping young women out to dirty and older men. Each phone was for a different girl and he was using them for a lot of money.

Sherlock immediately got his phone out and began to text John. But what would he say? Mr Calder is a creep, and a pimp?

He needed John and Claudia to see for themselves. Ah, but that could wait. He decided to look around the house more. Mr and Mrs Calder's bedroom. Sherlock assumed she didn't know what he was doing, hence the locks on the door. She was probably incredibly curious as to what was behind the locks, but probably didn't say anything.

Their bedroom was large and intricately designed, but boring. Nothing out of place, no pictures on the walls, nothing personal to dedicate their bedroom to themselves. Beige walls, white carpets, white bed. He deducted that their lives were boring and they were tired of each other. Seeing and spending time with each other was probably a daily chore, he concluded.

He looked in every single drawer, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about their clothes. He then, however, looked under their king sized bed. A wooden box, with yet another lock.

This one didn't even need his tools. He broke the lock himself and looked inside the box. It was Mrs Calder's. And it was full of photographs of herself. When she was younger, and Sherlock had to admit, she was very pretty. They were all glamour shots, or modelling shoots. Why was she keeping a lock on them? He would have to ask John and Claudia about that, his social unawareness didn't allow him to understand trivial things like locking boxes of photographs. Surely if you liked them enough, you'd display them, or keep them in an album? Not in a box under the bed, under lock and key.

Their lives were odd, he concluded right there. They didn't necessarily like and dislike each other, and they kept absolutely every part of their lives locked away from each other. Did they actually know each other at all, he wondered.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out.

_'Rosa is a hooker, and she is sat naked on our couch right now. -JW' _

"For Gods sake." Sherlock cursed. John obviously wanted him to go back home and sort it out, but what was he even supposed to do?!

Claudia had given Rosa a large t shirt to wear, so that she wasn't freezing in their apartment.

"I honestly thought you were asking for my... Service." Rosa stuttered, embarrassed. "I've never had a man ask to meet me before, without... You know." She shrugged, sipping her cup of tea with bright red cheeks.

"What's your real name, first?" John asked. Claudia frowned, how did he know Rosa wasn't her real name.

"Jessica." Jessica said. "It's not very 'hookery' though, is it?" She asked. Claude smiled at that.

"So, how did you know Daniel? I take it he was a client?" Claudia asked.

"He was, for a while. And then about three months ago he stopped trying to contact me. So did a few of my clients, actually." Jessica explained, looking rather down about that.

Claudia slid her phone out of her pocket and began texting Sherlock.

_'Please come back. We don't know what to ask. And she's wearing one of your t-shirts, by the way. CW' _She smiled as she sent it, knowing he'd send a mean reply back to her.

"He was one of my best. Never asked for anything horrible, and he was always nice to me afterwards. I was quite upset when I found out he was dead." Jessica continued, looking at the floor awkwardly.

"Do you know if he was hiring any other girls?" John asked.

"Yeah. A few. I don't know who they are or anything, but he said I was the best of them all." Jess said proudly. Claudia wondered why that would be something you'd be proud of. Then she remembered when she told Sherlock that very morning that he was better than Moriarty, and he'd beamed happily at her like an idiot.

_'I'm on my way. Ask her to get out of my clothes. SH' _Came the reply. Claudia smiled.

_'You'll have to ask her yourself. CW' _

She sat back in her seat and decided to actually listen to the conversation going on again.

"I suppose guys like him need people like me." Jessica shrugged.

"Why, what's he like?" Claudia asked.

"From what he told me, he had no friends. Lived on his own, was dedicated to his studies. Never even had sex with anyone other than hookers." Jessica shrugged nonchalantly.

And then in he strolled, Claudia's knight in a blue scarf.

"Sherlock Holmes." He introduced, sitting down next to Claudia after taking his coat and scarf off.

"Sherlock, this is Jessica. Jessica, this is one of our colleagues." John introduced.

"Have you heard of a man called Frederic Calder?" Sherlock asked, getting straight to the point. Jessica frowned.

"Yeah. Not a nice guy. He'd go out finding vulnerable girls and he'd pimp them out. Wasn't he another that died?" Jessica asked. Sherlock nodded.

"So he was infamous?" Sherlock asked. Jessica nodded. "Did he ever get in contact with you?" He then asked.

"No." Jessica told him. Sherlock nodded and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together and holding them under his chin as he thought.

"Tell me about Daniel." Sherlock then ordered. John decided to fill in.

"A recluse, had no friends and kept himself to himself. Dedicated himself to his uni work. Enjoyed hiring hookers." John explained. Sherlock nodded.

"Makes sense. The only company he could have was that that he paid for. But why? Why did he keep himself to himself?" Sherlock asked. That was actually a question that had been on the tip of both Watson's tongues.

"Maybe he had a bad upbringing. Sometimes that can cause someone to go into a depression that they don't even know about." She explained. Sherlock nodded.

"Plausible." He allowed.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'm gonna take off. This is more awkward that I thought today would be." Jessica sighed, pulling Sherlock's t-shirt down subconsciously and causing him to groan and roll his eyes. Claudia grinned at him, they both knew he wouldn't be getting that back.

"If we need you again, we'll ring you. But you can wear actual clothes." John joked as he showed her to the door. Jess nodded and left them to it.

"What did you find at their house?" Claudia asked Sherlock gently.

"He has a private room, locked with half a dozen locks. He's got a different phone for each girl he sold and a lot of money locked away. Millions." Sherlock stood up and paced, hands placed under his chin as if he was praying.

"That's a theme running through the murders then. Prostitution." John noted. Sherlock nodded and Claudia looked troubled.

"Seems that way. We need to release a warning. I'm not sure yet what the connection between the three people is other than prostitution, so I don't know if whoever murdering them was specifically after just those three people or not." Sherlock explained. John nodded.

"I'll tell Lestrade." He said.

"What else did you find?" Claudia urged.

"Frederic and Caroline Calder haven't loved each other for a long time. Caroline either didn't know what was in the locked room or did know but didn't want to think about it. But she's also been hiding things. Glamour shots of her younger self, locked away."

"Maybe he didn't approve of her being a model, and told her to get rid of them, but she didn't want to." John said.

"Why wouldn't he approve of that, yet be selling women?" Claudia asked. "Unless he didn't want her to be associated with that side of his life. He wanted a normal life with his wife, and his seedy life behind locked doors. And not every normal person is married to a model." She realised, and John smiled at her long-winded deduction skills.

"I'll need another look at the house to try and find more links. I had to leave early because _someone_ gave away my clothes." Sherlock sulked, glaring at John.

"Don't blame me! It was Claudia!" John refuted, pointing at his sister. Claudia smiled angelically.

"You never wear t-shirts anyway." She defended, shrugging and standing up. "You always wear your tight shirts." She nudged him jokingly, and he slapped her hand away impatiently, causing her to laugh and sit back down. John looked like was going to throw up. Claudia had definitely noticed Sherlocks' tight shirts then. He'd hoped that maybe she didn't look at him that much, but she obviously did.

"Okay." John decided to get back to the case. "So, we still need to look around Daniel's flat. We need to look further into the Calder's house and we need to find a link. We still don't know if it's going to happen again, so I'm guessing we need to go quickly?" John asked. Sherlock nodded.

"Basically, yes." He said in a monotonous voice.

"Where first?" Claudia asked.

"Daniel's." Sherlock said, and they all quickly left Baker Street.

_I'm sorry it's not got to much fluff in it, and I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm not exaggerating here but I've never been so stressed in my life. I'm feeling incredibly panicky and horrible because I have about twenty exams this month and they start next week and I feel like I haven't done nearly enough revision for them yet. So yeah, freaking out a little bit over here. I've wanted to update for a while now, but I really can't be throwing my time away. Not that I consider writing for you guys to be wasting my time, but you know what I mean. But this whole thing has been reducing me to tears some nights because I'm a bit overwhelmed at the minute and confused and don't know anything about chemistry. Ah._

_I know you'll understand. You're cool like that._

_-Fay x_


	26. Claudia and Sherlock's Deal

Daniel lived in a small flat in the heart of London, close to his university. He studied biology, and was apparently very into his studies. Also looking around his flat, it was very clear that he was lonely and was in desperate need of a girlfriend. Calendars of naked girls, crude posters slapped on his walls, and as seen before, all the numbers in his phone were girls. Probably all hookers, like 'Rosa'.

"What a sad existence." Claudia muttered as she looked around.

"Is this where he was found dead?" John asked.

"Yes. With the almost invisible shard of glass stabbed in his heart." Sherlock muttered, pointing to the dried pool of blood on the kitchen floor.

"That's really just from one stab?" Claudia asked, wincing.

"A hollow needle. Blood wasn't flowing through the body, and was instead being pumped out of the needle. The murderer would have needed to know intricate details of the heart. He or she would also have had to be close, to place the needle properly." John rambled, realising more and more with every word.

"Say that again." Sherlock held one hand up and closed his eyes.

"Er, what bit?" John asked.

"All of it!" Sherlock waved, wincing.

"The murderer will know a lot about the heart to know where to pierce it to drain the blood. They would have been close to Daniel to position the needle correctly. Either that or he was knocked out." John repeated.

"I've got it." Sherlock said.

"You know who did it?" Claudia smiled proudly.

"No." Sherlock suddenly seemed downcast. She'd expected much of him. "I only know what type of person killed him. And it will narrow the list of suspects down."

They also had to look around the Calder's house again- to look further into details that even Sherlock could have missed. Now they knew more details from Daniel's flat, they had a wider contextual knowledge of what they were looking for.

"Claude, you go and check Caroline's part of the bedroom. John, you're with me. Frederic's dirty secrets will have to be seen again." Sherlock told him. John sighed. He'd rather stay with his sister, if he was being honest.

Claudia smiled and trundled over to the bedroom. She whistled with admiration as she walked into the room. Very plush. All satin sheets and silk cushions.

Where to look? Her wardrobe. She opened the doors to Caroline's wardrobe to find a bunch of fur coats. Claudia shut the doors with disgust. That type of thing didn't appeal to her at all.

She then bent down to look in the drawers below the wardrobe. A camera. An expensive looking camera. She turned it on and sat on the bed, and began to look through photo's.

She cringed when they came on the screen. They were nude photo's of Caroline. She quickly turned the camera off, feeling like she was intruding on Caroline's things. She kept the camera aside. She went back to the drawers and found a large wad of money. She moved from the drawers to Caroline's vanity.

Many perfumes sat on top, with vaporisers and solid balms. She looked through her jewellery box. Only two rings were in the box. A wedding ring and an engagement ring. Why would they be stored in there? She didn't have a job, it wasn't like she had to take them off to look after them. Therefore, she was taking them off because she didn't want to wear them? Like Sherlock had said the day before, they were not happily married. She noted that as a useful fact and closed the box. She then leafed through the drawers of the vanity, finding a hell of a lot of makeup.

I mean, Claudia had a small makeup collection- she wasn't pretending she didn't use it. But there must have been thousands of pounds worth of makeup in just one drawer. And there were five.

Expensive makeup, naked photos of herself and hidden money. Caroline was hiding secrets just like her husband was.

Claudia didn't want to do what she did next, but she had to. She went to her clothes drawers and began looking through. Some of the things in there made her cringe. Some of that underwear even Claudia wouldn't wear, and she was half the age of Caroline! She soon pieced it together, and went to find her brother and Sherlock to tell them what she'd found.

Meanwhile, Sherlock showed John Frederic's room of money, technology and secrets.

"And each phone is for a different girl that he'd pimping out?" John asked, looking over the numerous phones. Sherlock nodded.

"Did you see all the locks on the door? He really wanted people out of here." Sherlock spoke up.

"Was he embarrassed, do you think?" John asked. Sherlock shrugged.

"Who knows?" He asked.

"If you lock something, you either are keeping it a secret or you're embarrassed of it. Maybe it was both." John sighed. "What unhappy lives for all of them."

Sherlock shrugged, not seeing that side of it. "So, what's the link with the Calder's and Daniel?" Sherlock asked John.

"Easy." Claudia said, walking into the room with Caroline's camera in her hands. "Caroline's got secrets just like her husband. Sexy underwear, naked photo's, expensive collection of makeup, secret money and she kept her wedding rings well away from everthing else. She was selling her body. Probably to make up for the intimacy she didn't get from her husband." Claudia concluded, handing the camera to John and watching him immediately pass it to Sherlock. She watched bemused as both men shifted under her watchful gaze. They knew they had to look at the naked photos as part of the case, but it was a bit weird, wasn't it?

Sherlock put the camera on Frederic's desk.

"So we know their link. A seedy private life. Daniel hired prostitutes, Frederic sold them and Caroline was one." Sherlock said. Claudia shrugged and nodded and John shifted on his feet.

"What were you saying before, Sherlock, about ruling out some of the suspects?" Claudia asked.

"Intimate knowledge of the heart- surgeon. Close to Daniel- a woman he bought. The same girl that Frederic would have been selling and Caroline talking with." Sherlock said.

"At least it narrows it down a bit." Claudia said weakly, and Sherlock smiled fondly at her.

When the three of them got back to Baker Street, John was going on yet another date. He was having a shower and Claudia and Sherlock were both sat in the living room.

Sherlock was in his mind palace, lying on the sofa with his eyes closed. But, contrary to his usual position, his head was on Claudia's lap and she was stroking his hair with a straight face- staring into space.

"Is this actually helping you or are you really uncomfortable right now?" Claudia asked him gently, breaking their comfortable silence.

"It's helping." He told her deeply. He then suddenly inhaled deeply and sat up, staring at her. "Why haven't you gone yet?" He asked her. Claudia frowned and looked hurt.

"You want me to go?" She asked.

"No." Sherlock quickly said, grabbing her wrist as she went to brush her hair behind her ear- a nervous habit. She looked at him as he stared intently at her. "Why haven't you left me, screaming yet? This case is awful. I'm going to be talking to prostitutes. Are you not uncomfortable? You don't think I'm a freak for actually enjoying this?" He demanded, his hand still clamped on her wrist.

"Well... No." She reasoned. "This is your job, and I... I understand Sherlock. That's why I haven't left you, screaming yet." She told him. He looked shocked.

"Well then." He said, still not letting her wrist go. "I knew you were patient but I thought you'd have gone by now."

"I don't know whether to be offended or not." Claudia sighed.

"No!" Sherlock exclaimed rather desperately, getting from the couch and kneeling before her. "Don't be offended. I'm surprised. It's not that I want you to go... Or anything. I'm glad you're here... I can't say what I want to say, Claudia." He finally admitted, struggling for words to convey his thoughts. Claudia watched him, not interrupting. "I think most people would have left me, by now." He admitted. Claudia smiled.

"I'm not most people." She told him gently, moving her wrist from his hand and instead holding his hand. Sherlock laughed at that little concept, and joined her on the couch.

"This would be a good time to, I don't know, hug me or something." Claudia whispered, hinting and grinning at him. Sherlock, straight faced, put an arm around her so that her head was resting on his chest. Claudia smiled at his wooden movements.

Sherlock kissed her forehead and relaxed slightly.

"I'll make you a deal." Sherlock murmured into her hair.

"What's that?" Claudia asked back, just as quietly.

"I'll keep you safe if you keep me sane."

"Who's the girl this time?" Claudia grinned at her brother as she adjusted the collar of his shirt. John glared at her and swatted her hands away.

"Hannah." He told her. "She's very nice and hopefully isn't secretly still seeing her ex." He sighed. Claudia half smiled.

"Poor Johnny boy." She cooed, and he glared at her again. "Do I get to meet her? Approve her? Only the best for my brother." She winked.

"She's coming here in ten minutes. Please, just stay cool." He begged her, as he grabbed her face to try and get his message across.

"Gotcha." Claudia winked, just as someone knocked on the door. "Ooh, she's early." She grinned and ran to the door before John could even move. She smiled at her brother before opening the door to a shy looking girl.

"Oh." The girl said, frowning at Claudia. "I'm here for John." She said.

"Oh, I'm his sister, Claudia. John's inside, still getting ready. Come on, I'll make you some tea while you wait." She grinned, leading Hannah inside and pushing John into his bedroom and winking. John sighed, but did as he was told. She was making sure she wasn't secretly seeing her ex. She was protecting her brother.

"You must be Hannah. John said you were pretty." Claudia said, gesturing for a chair for the girl to sit in. Hannah smiled.

"Tea?" Claudia then asked.

"Love some. One sugar please." Hannah said.

"Oh, Hannah. This is Sherlock. He lives here too. Sherlock!" Claudia called, and Sherlock finally looked up from John's laptop that he was intently staring at. "Be nice." She mouthed to him, winking. Sherlock sighed and put his best acting head on.

"Nice to meet you." He said with a fake smile. Hannah smiled.

Claudia bounded off into the kitchen to make the tea. As she did so, John sidled up to her.

"What do you hope to achieve with this?" He asked her.

"I'm making sure she's right for you. You'll thank me later." She winked at him as she poured the water into the mug.

John sighed. "Right. Thank you." He allowed, patting her head and leaving her to it. "I'll be out in five." He whispered. Claudia saluted him and carried the cup of tea in to Hannah.

"Thank you." Hannah said.

"So tell me." Claudia launched into attack mode. "Is this your first date in a while? I know it's Johns." Claudia said, as if telling a secret. Sherlock looked up at Claudia and smirked at her blatant lie.

"It is actually. I'm quite nervous." Hannah nodded. Claudia looked at Sherlock, urging him to ask something.

"Um..." He struggled, so Claudia sighed. He was a useless partner in this area.

"Ignore him." She told Hannah breezily. "Are you living on your own?" She asked kindly.

"Yeah. I've been pretty lonely recently actually. It's why I was glad John asked me out. He's lovely." Hannah grinned. Claudia looked at Sherlock. He'd be able to tell if she was lying. He gave her a brief thumbs up sign and Claudia smiled.

"Perfect." She grinned. "My brother's been pretty delicate recently. He needs someone really good for him. No pressure or anything." Claudia forced an obviously fake laugh, and Sherlock snorted in amusement. She glared at him, and luckily that was when John emerged from his room.

"Hannah! Glad you made it. You ready to go?" He asked, smiling at her. Hannah nodded, finished her tea and the two of them left quickly. Hannah waved goodbye.

When they'd gone, Claudia relaxed in her chair. "Ah, they'll be fine." She concluded. Sherlock smirked and turned back to his laptop.

His eyes kept darting from the laptop to Claudia. After about five minutes of that, Claude sighed.

"What's wrong?" She asked him.

"Nothing." Sherlock replied.

"Something is wrong." She then said, walking over to him and standing looking down at him.

"Nothings wrong." He insisted. Claudia peered into his eyes, her face very close to his. She then smiled, and darted to kiss him. It was what he'd been wanting, she knew it. He snapped the laptop shut and let it fall to the floor, his hands instead moving to her hair where he tangled his long fingers there. She wound her arms around her neck and knelt above him on his chair, almost sitting on him.

"I rather like this." Sherlock muttered between kisses.

"Me too." Claudia grinned.

**I really needed to write some fluff today. Sorry about the long wait, guys. And thanks for being so understanding. Exams have nearly finished now and I've finished school forever. Well, I start college in September. But let's not worry about that now.**

**Anyway, four more exams and you have me to yourselves for four months. Love you all lots.**

**-Fay xox**


	27. Midazolam

"I'm really not feeling well, Sherlock." John said, from the kitchen where he was stood with said consulting detective. Claudia was in the living room, idly flicking through the TV channels, watching but not listening. Instead, she was listening to the argument, knowing at some point, she'd be mentioned.

"But I need you today. It could get dangerous, and where would I be without my blogger?" Sherlock whined.

"I'd hardly be of any use in this state, idiot. I'm really not in the mood to run, and my head's bloody pounding. If you need someone, take Claudia. You can borrow her as long as you look after her." John said. There it was. She'd been bargained like a cheap toy.

"She might not be good at the running and fighting. You can handle yourself. I don't have to worry about you. I'd be constantly watching out for her." Sherlock grumbled.

"Because I'm a girl?" Claudia asked sarcastically, finally having enough and walking into the kitchen. "I'll have you know that John has taught me to fight perfectly well, and I can look after myself. No worrying necessary." She promised.

Sherlock looked at her for a moment. "Are you sure you can't come?" Sherlock asked John. He shook his head, tied his dressing gown tighter around his shivering body and went back to bed, armed with a cup of steaming tea.

"You're left with me then." Claudia smirked, and Sherlock sighed. "What are we doing?" She asked.

"I think I've found our murderer, and I need to find him." Sherlock explained. Claudia nodded.

"Where will he be?" Claude asked.

"His house, obviously." Sherlock scoffed, walking into the living room. Claudia rolled her eyes.

"Should we go now, then?" She asked.

"Promise me you can fight?" Sherlock asked her. She nodded. "Show me how you shoot a gun." He told her, handing her his gun. She pulled off the safety, aimed it at the smiley yellow face on the wall.

"What am I aiming for?" She asked.

"Left eye." Sherlock replied. She took aim and shot, leaving a smoking bullet hole in the left eye.

"He taught me well. Do you not remember when I shot that guy for Irene?" Claudia asked, handing the gun back and getting her own golden engraved gun from the bottom of the coffee table, and putting it in her waist band.

"You've been hiding this well." Sherlock noted. Claudia shrugged.

"I've never had a reason to tell you." She replied. "I'm not like you, I don't feel the need to brag about everything." She informed him dryly. Sherlock glared at her, and shrugged his coat and scarf off. He threw Claudia's coat at her, and she also put it on.

They then left the flat, both feeling slightly uncomfortable about the situation.

"How did you find him?" Claudia asked as they briskly walked down Baker Street.

"Ruled out the impossible, and was left with the answer." He explained. "Did some basic tracking. Got his phone number from Frederic, Caroline and Daniel's phones. That's the link. They all have his number. I tracked the number, it led me to his house, where he is right now apparently." He showed her his phone, which had a bleeping red dot on the murderers house.

"What's the plan of action?" Claudia asked.

"Working on it." He replied swiftly, looking around at his surroundings. Claudia knew then that he was deducing absolutely everything he was looking at. His head must be quite overwhelming.

She was about to continue down one road, when Sherlock gently pushed her in the other direction. She fumbled over her step but remained stable (just) causing Sherlock to guffaw. Claudia glared at him, and he had to make a conscious effort to shut up.

When they reached the house, Sherlock turned to Claudia. "Old trick. Did it with John. I need you to punch me." He said.

"Punch you?" She asked, confused. "And John did that?" She then started laughing, knowing that John would have taken great pleasure in punching him.

"Stop laughing." He hissed. His facial expression only made her laugh more. Sherlock sighed and watched her, waiting for her to stop. "This is why I work with John. You're far too... Up in the clouds to take me seriously." He grumbled. Claudia tried to look more serious, and actually listened to him, only a small smile playing on her lips. "Now punch me." He told her.

"No." Claudia replied.

"Have I ever told you that I think you're rather unattractive?" Sherlock asked, watching as her expression turned from hurt to stormy. He then leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Irene's better than you." He lied. She leaned back, utterly glaring hatred at him, and punched him in the eye. She then slapped him too, for good luck. She began to walk off, but he grabbed her arm.

"Nice punch, nice slap. And absolutely everything I said was a lie." He promised swiftly. "Now we have to be quick." He told her, holding her hand and running to the murderer's house.

"I hate you sometimes." She told him. He simply laughed, too caught up in the moment of _not being bored _to care what she thought about him. He'd said what he needed to say to make her punch him. And gosh, she had a good punch.

He felt his eye, it was already swollen. He knocked on the door and told Claudia to wait by the side with her gun. She did as she was told, watching anxiously from around the corner as the door was answered.

"I can't quite... I've been mugged and I don't know... Oh God... I need... A phone. Can I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked, faking fear and tears. He was quite a good actor when he needed to be, Claudia smiled. Sherlock was let into the house, and Claudia moved forwards slightly.

"You stay there. My phone's upstairs. I'll just get it for you." The man said, leaving Sherlock downstairs in the front room. He went to the window and opened it out. Luckily, it wasn't a tall window, and Claudia was easily able to wiggle through.

"What now?" She whispered.

"Upstairs. Quickly." Sherlock ordered, leading the way. They tiptoed upstairs, and Sherlock found the room he was looking for. Unfortunately, that was the room the man was in. The murderer took one look at Claudia with her gun, and charged at them. Sherlock tripped him with his leg, causing the man to sprawl on the floor.

He quickly scrabbled to his feet though.

"Tell us what you know about Frederic, Caroline and Daniel!" Sherlock called as the man ran into the next room.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" He insisted.

"Yes you do." Sherlock said calmly, motioning for Claudia to follow him into the next room with the man.

"Oh, hello." Claudia muttered as the man was also holding a gun, and pointing it at the duo.

"Duck." Sherlock ordered, and they both ducked to the ground just as the bullet shot over their heads.

Another shot was fired, but they'd crawled out of the room by then. "Don't shoot him. I want information." Sherlock told her quietly, as he found a weapon of his own. She nodded as he unwrapped his scarf from his neck and held it taut.

"The words distract the guard head in my general direction." Claudia said, taking off for the other room. Sherlock watched her go. As soon as she stood in the doorway, he heard a gunshot. She was fine, however, she'd ducked in time.

"Wait!" She called. "I won't shoot if you don't." She promised. "Look." She said, putting her gun on the floor in the doorway so he knew she was telling the truth. She heard him put the gun down himself.

"Okay." He said. She stood up and taking a huge chance, she walked into the room. "Just tell me what you've done and why you did it and none of this nonsense will have to continue." She said sincerely, batting her eyelashes slightly. The man paused, seemingly only noticing that she was an attractive young woman.

"Are you one of them?" He asked her, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"One of who?" She asked, confused. He shook his head and looked at her.

"It wasn't her fault. They were harassing her all the time. One of them was trying to hire her, the other was trying to sell her, and that bloody woman was threatening her all the time. It wasn't her fault. Really." The man insisted, and at that time, Claudia noticed his weary age. The sagging lines around his eyes and mouth, the tiredness of a father.

"Your daughter." Claudia realised.

"And if you're coming trying to kill her or take her away from me, then you're mistaken." He said, shakily bending down to pick his gun up. "She's long gone." He said, and shot again. Sherlock didn't even hear the body drop to the floor, he'd sprinted into the room at the sound of the trigger being pulled, and he'd dragged the man to him and tied the scarf around his neck.

"Give up or I'll pull tighter." Sherlock promised, finally letting his eyes drop to the unconscious Claudia on the floor.

"What do you want from me?" The man yelled, obviously in agony.

"Where is your daughter?" Sherlock said through gritted teeth.

"Gone." The man simply said.

"Where?" Sherlock snarled, tightening the scarf to show the man he meant business.

"I sent her away." He replied. Sherlock refused to listen to anymore of his nonsense and pulled on the scarf, not killing the man, but starving him of oxygen for long enough that he fell to the floor, also unconscious.

He then bent down to Claudia and delicately plucked the feathered bullet from her thigh. A tranquilliser dart. He inspected the dart itself. The dart didn't tell him what tranquillising agent had been used, so he pocketed it to test at home. He then picked Claudia up, watching angrily as her head lolled back in his arms. That idiotic cretin that had shot her. Maybe he _should_ have killed him when he had the chance.

Sherlock had taken a cab back to 221B, and had placed Claudia on the couch. He then took the dart straight to his microscope and analytical equipment, and had placed a drop of it under the lens. He ran it through the analytical chemical system, and it matched its chemical properties to be those of Midazolam. Safe enough, it reasonable concentrations and dosages. It luckily only caused unconsciousness and short term amnesia.

He left his desk and walked to her, watching her sleep.

Why did he even care so much that she'd been knocked unconscious?

"I suppose I've been a huge hypocrite. I could have taken the man to the station right there and then, got details of his daughter, found out where she is and tracked her down. She could be in court by next month. But I let emotions get in the way.

And I suppose I should probably apologize for what I said before, although it was relevant to the case and so I don't need to back myself up. But I didn't mean it. You're not, and she's not. Oh, I don't know what this feeling is but I wish it'd piss off. You're a huge distraction. One that I didn't ask for.

And you should also know that I will never say anything like this ever again, and I'm glad you've got amnesia because you won't even remember it. I don't know what it is about you, Claudia Watson. Maybe that you have a good punch, and you don't expect me to be someone I'm not. And you haven't tried to change me. You don't care that I smoke, you appreciate my violin playing, you stick up for me in arguments with your brother. You appreciate the little things, and I suppose that is why I like you so much.

And I think that is why I can see holding hands in summer together."

"Aren't you a little romantic when you set your mind on it." A voice said from the doorway. A voice that reminded Sherlock of childhood arguments and competitions of 'who's the cleverest?' He closed his eyes and looked up to find Mycroft and his umbrella looming over him like a tower of death.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I came to talk to Claudia, actually, but I see she's shut for business." Mycroft smirked. "What is that? Midazolam?" He asked, inspecting the puncture mark in her tights carefully. Sherlock nodded.

"What did you want to say to her?" He asked, standing up and sitting on his seat.

"She starts back at university in a couple of weeks, and I was offering to pay for anything she might need. She's been a good little worker, and I've written her a cheque to pay for the tuition fees, to get her out of any debt and for some books she might need." He explained.

"Modern History." Sherlock recalled from their first meeting. "She'd moved down here to get away from Moriarty, and now she can go back and finish her studies." He realised.

"Exactly. Well, I'd like to give her the money in person so do tell her I called, won't you Sherly?" Mycroft asked, making his way to the door. "Although, judging by the way you just poured your ice heart out to her, she might stay, mightn't she?" He teased, before leaving.

Claudia would be going to finish her course in two weeks and he couldn't exactly stop her going could he? She loved History, she'd often talk about how she wanted to lecture at Cambridge or Oxford. He could hardly hold her back from that, could he?

Two weeks- he had to let her go in two weeks.

John was going to have to put up with some major depressing songs on the violin at four in the morning in the upcoming month.


	28. Mood Swings

Claudia awoke to the sound of violin strings being plucked absently, with no tune and no form and no obvious feeling behind it. Someone was either thinking very hard or in a very bad mood. By someone, she meant Sherlock.

She was aching all over, her eyes were desperate to close again and her head felt very fuzzy. She groaned and rolled over, almost rolling off the couch she didn't know she was led on.

"Mycroft wants to talk to you." Sherlock told her. She cracked an eye open to look at him. He wasn't looking back at her, his eyes were focussed forwards, watching nothing in particular.

"Right. Well that's not important. Do you want to tell me what happened?" Claudia asked impatiently, slowly sitting up and rubbing her stinging thigh. He didn't reply. "Fine. I'll ask John." She snapped, getting up and hobbling to her brothers bedroom.

As she opened the bedroom door, Sherlock suddenly loudly played his violin, screeching the bow on the strings and causing an angry and hostile noise. Claudia flinched against the sheer volume of it- it really didn't have a nice effect on her fuzzy head.

"John." She whispered. Her brother wasn't there. "Where is he?" She called into the living room. She then walked back in, where Sherlock was still sulking about something.

"Doctors." He replied. Of course, he'd been ill.

"Will you please tell me what happ- Oh, wait. It's coming back to me." She told him, and he suddenly seemed very interested, watching her intently. "We were in that house. It was his daughter- his daughter killed them. And then he shot me. But I'm not dead. So what did he shoot me with?" She asked.

"Well done. A tranquilliser dart." Sherlock told her absently. Well, at least he was talking to her again.

"And you brought me home? Did anything else happen in the house?" She asked.

"At that time, no." He replied.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked.

"I brought you home, Mycroft visited and I explained what was going on and then he escorted me to the fathers house again." Sherlock explained.

"What did you do?" Claudia asked with a wary tone of voice.

"Pushed him out of the window." He replied.

"Why?" Claudia's voice cracked. Sherlock didn't reply. "He didn't do anything." Claudia then reminded him. Sherlock shrugged and played his violin loudly again.

"Hey! Stop." She snapped. "My head." She warned. He stopped and threw his violin on the floor, creating a rather loud bang and causing her to flinch again.

"He did do something. Does it not seem odd that he had tranquilliser darts in his bedroom? He helped his daughter by tranquillising the victims. That's how they could get so close to stab their hearts. And then he sent the daughter out of the country to protect her." Sherlock explained as Claudia went to get pain killers.

"So he did kill them?" Claudia asked.

"He was part of it. I need to research his daughter more, find out what her job is, and what her job used to be." He replied. "All of this with the father is just a huge distraction." Sherlock grumbled. Claudia frowned as he said those words and finished drinking her water. She then remembered, and slammed a hand to her mouth in shock.

She walked into the living room cautiously, like a deer caught in headlights. She eyed Sherlock. Had he actually said that to her?

"Did you think I'd have amnesia?" She asked cautiously.

"Yes. One of the side effects." Sherlock told her. She then simply stood watching him. His eyes met hers and he knew she'd heard what he'd admitted.

"You.." He warned, pointing a finger at her.

"I have a good punch, eh?" Claudia wiggled her eyebrows at him, watching as his jaw tensed and he sat up a tiny bit straighter. "I don't try to change you, I don't want you to be someone else." She quoted.

Sherlock glared at her. "Don't." He warned.

"And that's why you like me so much?" She teased. He blushed profusely.

"You weren't supposed to remember any of this. You were out cold!" He defended himself.

"It's not my fault you talk so loud." She told him, all the time walking closer and closer to him. "I appreciate your violin playing and the little things." She said, right up to him. He finally looked at her.

"I suppose." He said. "This is highly unfair." He then told her.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, liking how violently he reacted to that. He sat up straight and knotted his fingers in her hair, keeping her that close to him. After realising all of those things he liked about her, he guessed that he had to then let those myriad of emotions for Claudia escape. Claudia's fingers brushed all over his face, his cheekbones, his cupids bow, and then finally that wonderful hair.

"You've got a bruise around your eye." She murmured as they leaned back slightly, out of breath with flushed cheeks.

"That was you." He told her. She winced and prodded it.

"Does it hurt?" She asked. He shook his head.

"Could have done without you prodding me though." He told her, and she laughed out loud at him. She then noticed that one of his fingers was on her thigh, right on the spot that she'd been shot at. She looked at it, absently stroking the prick point better.

"I pushed him out of the window because he hurt you." Sherlock murmured, and Claudia realised that was the closest she was ever going to get to a true declaration of affection from him. Well, when she was actually conscious.

"And what will Lestrade think about that?" Claudia grinned, and even Sherlock smiled at that.

"Mycroft sorted it out for me." He explained, and at the sound of his brothers name, he seemed to remember why he'd been being grumpy with her and sat back, arms folded, eyes fixated at his skull on the mantle.

"Ah, the mood swing. I'll just leave you to grovel." Claudia told him, leaving him to his thoughts. She went to make a cup of tea in the kitchen, and when she walked back into the living room, he'd gone.

"Thanks for meeting up with me, dear. I have something to give you." Mycroft reached into his satchel and pulled out his chequebook. He scribbled a large number on it and handed it over. He then wrote another one and handed her that too.

"Two cheques, for two very different things." Mycroft explained. Claudia looked shocked at the amount of money he'd proposed to give her.

"One cheque, for when you return to university. You can pay off your inevitable debts. The second, for helping my brother. I'm not sure if you've seen it but you've changed him drastically, my dear. Don't look startled, not too much. John doesn't even notice. But I do. He's not as bored, he's not taking drugs, he's somewhat happier. So that cheque is to thank you and to plead with you to visit him when you're away." Mycroft rambled, stopping only as the barrister came to take their orders.

Claudia had been offered almost one million pounds- and in her eyes she'd done absolutely nothing.

"I will have a black coffee, please, no sugars. And Claudia will have a vanilla cappuccino." Mycroft ordered, well aware that Claudia wouldn't be able to speak for a short while due to shock.

"I didn't want to change him." She said.

"For the better. He doesn't even know. His best friend doesn't know. It's only something a brother can see. Now, do what you want with that money. But I simply refuse to take it back so there's no point in trying." He smirked as she handed the money back.

"I can't." She told him, folding her arms worriedly.

"Yes you can. It's a present, from me to you. It hardly breaks my bank, but I know it can improve your lifestyle. Thank you, for everything, my dear." He smiled at her, before standing, taking his black coffee, downing it in one go and throwing some change on the table for the drinks. He then left, with only a small wave for her.

Claudia looked at the cheques and put them in her bag, with no intent on ever cashing them. She decided to stay and finish her drink. She then also stood up and left, rather shakily.

"He gave you the money then. Sherlock told me about it." John smiled as his sister walked in, pale and tired looking.

"Yes. Look." Claudia said, handing him the cheques. John's eyes grew wider.

"Erm.. Wow." He said, before laughing. "Rich Claudia." He quipped. She shook her head.

"Not going to cash them." She corrected, plucking them from his fingers and dropping them gingerly back in her bag.

"And what exactly are they for?" John asked.

"One's for university fees when I go back in a couple of weeks." She explained. "The other is for helping Sherlock. Which really, he should have given you." She sighed.

"You're going back to uni?" John asked, it being news to him. She nodded. "Good for you. You go and do what you love, Claude. I'll miss you though." John said sadly, ruffling her hair. "Ah." He then realised. "And that's why Sherlock's in a mood with everyone." He groaned.

"That's why?" Claudia asked with raised eyebrows. John nodded.

"Don't let him stop you, though. Promise me that. You're so intelligent, don't let him ruin it just because he gets grumpy." John said sincerely. Claudia nodded, taking what he said into account.

"Where is he now?" She asked.

"We've been waiting for you, actually. We've tracked the daughter down." John explained. "And since I'm feeling better, and since you're no longer unconscious..." He growled, obviously pissed off that that had happened. "We can go and find her." He explained.

"I thought she was abroad." Claudia said as they walked into the living room, where the consulting detective was brooding.

"She is." John smirked. "He sent her to Wales." He explained. Claudia had to laugh at that.

"Wales?!" She asked. John smirked.

"We were thinking South Africa or America or somewhere like that. But no, she's in Wales." He nodded, also finding the funny side.

"And now we have to get her." Sherlock spoke from his seat. Claudia looked at him, but he was obviously still in a bad mood.

"And why have you waited for me?" She asked.

"We've hired a car. You can drive. We can't." John admitted sheepishly. Claudia sighed, and groaned, and then glared at the two of them.

"I thought you needed me, or I helped you. But no, you need me to be your designated driver." She complained, storming into John's bedroom and retrieving her purse from her bag. She then took her drivers license from it and pocketed it.

"Let's go then." She said. John grabbed his and Claudia's coat, while Sherlock took his coat and scarf. Claudia let the way outside and found the car they'd hired.

She got in and turned it on. John sat next to her and Sherlock sat in the back. Thankfully, there was a Satnav. John plugged in the town they were going to. Cardiff.

Two and a half hours. Claudia grumbled to herself and set off driving, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't annoy her by being moody on the way there.

"How did you find her?" Claudia asked.

"We looked up information about the father, Jack Tate. We then found the daughter, Penny Tate. She's a bit thick. She set her Facebook status and had her location turned on. Cardiff. He'd sent her to Cardiff." Sherlock explained.

"Penny Tate. What's her job? You said that's important." Claudia said.

"Don't know. We'll have to find out when we find her." Sherlock explained.

"And how are we going to find her?" John asked, knowing the answer already.

"Don't know. Now shut up, you're both dumbing down my thoughts. Leave me to it." Sherlock ordered. John looked at Claudia who was glaring at Sherlock in the rear view mirror.

"If it wasn't for me you'd have been left on your own yesterday." She hissed at him. His eyes met hers.

"And you messed it up." He then told her. Her angry look turned to a hurt look, and she decided to ignore him until he apologized. But he was never going to apologize, and she knew it.

"Claude, what do you want for your birthday?" John asked, to break the silence. "Two weeks to go."

That, obviously, wasn't news to Sherlock. He already knew when her birthday was. Deduction is a powerful tool.

"I don't want anything." Claudia said, now in a foul mood due to what Sherlock had said to her.

"She wants a record player." Sherlock corrected. "Have you not seen our internet history?" He asked.

"No, Sherlock, for some reason I don't spend my time looking through our internet history." John sighed.

"Maybe because you delete yours, for some unknown reason. I really can't figure out why you delete your internet history, John, care to enlighten us?" Sherlock quipped sarcastically.

John sighed and didn't even respond to that brilliant question.

"A record player it is then." John said quietly.


	29. The Mystery of Penny Tate

Once in Wales- after Claudia had not only had to drive there, but pay the bridge fee and for parking- they still didn't know how to find Penny.

"We could get the police." Claudia said weakly, not really knowing why they were wandering around the dark streets of Cardiff, hungry and her eyes were bleary from driving.

"Sherlock, we're hungry. Either come up with a plan or we go and book into a hotel." John snapped. He was also fed up of following Sherlock around like a puppy, thinking he knew what he was doing, when actually, he also didn't have a clue.

"Fine. You two wander around Cardiff doing normal things like eating, and I'll do this on my own and potentially be killed." Sherlock grumbled, still in a bad mood.

"Okay." John said quickly, knowing that if he left the decision up to Claudia, she'd continue to stay with Sherlock.

"John!" Sherlock protested, but John had had enough and was leading Claudia into a nice warm looking Italian. A minute later, Sherlock joined them at their table.

"We need to think of a plan." He admitted, refusing to meet eye contact. He got his phone out and typed on it furiously right up until it came to ordering.

"I'll have the lemon linguine." Claudia ordered.

"Spaghetti carbonara." John said. All eyes turned to Sherlock, who looked up from his phone.

"You Watson's and your love of pasta." He tutted. Claudia frowned.

"What are you ordering?" She asked.

"Nothing. Digestion slows down thinking time." Sherlock explained.

"Of course." Claudia muttered sarcastically, and the waiter walked away, confused.

"What are you looking for?" John asked him. Sherlock either didn't hear him or just didn't want to answer. To all extent and purposes, he was deaf for that meal.

It was near the end of their meal that he finally paid attention, and that was only because he heard the words he'd been wanting to say himself.

"When exactly are you leaving?" John asked Claudia, as she sipped on her cocktail.

"Three weeks, six days." She said, smiling sadly. Sherlock finally met her eyes and she blushed slightly.

"Enough time for that party, then John." Sherlock said. John gritted his teeth and glared at the consulting detective.

"What _party_?" He demanded angrily. Sherlock looked up and realised that he'd ruined John's plan of a surprise party.

"Oh. No party. Ignore me." He said, sending Claudia a fake smile.

"I'll just pretend he hadn't said that." Claudia assured John, who'd just kicked Sherlock under the table. "But really, you don't need to throw me a party. It's not a special birthday or anything." She shrugged.

"Aha!" Sherlock exclaimed, a small smile finally shining on his face. "Got her." He said.

"How?" Claudia asked.

"Hacked into the records of every hotel in Cardiff to see who had booked in in the last week. The forty-third hotel I tried. Penny Tate. Room 405. Let's go." He said, throwing a wad of cash onto the table and practically running out of the restaurant. Claudia hastily finished her cocktail while John slid his jacket on, he then held hers out for her, she snatched it and the siblings ran after Sherlock, who was already half way down the moonlit street.

"Wait." John complained, shouting after him. Sherlock didn't stop, he simply followed the directions on his map to find the hotel she'd booked in to.

"You'd have thought she'd at least use an alias." Claudia remarked.

"Yes. Good." Sherlock told her, and she beamed at his compliment. Bad times when you consider that to be a compliment, she thought to herself.

"What do we do when we get to the hotel?" John asked.

"We act like we know her. Don't draw attention to ourselves. Just walk in like we own the place." Claudia said before Sherlock could even get the chance.

"We'd better hurry up." Sherlock said, suddenly speed walking down the street.

"Why?" John called.

"The front doors lock after 10pm, it said so on the website. After that you need a key." He replied. Claudia checked the time on her phone. 9:57.

"Shit." She muttered.

"Yes, shit indeed." Sherlock said. "Lagging behind won't help us. We have to hurry up. If you dawdle, we have to wait until tomorrow morning." Sherlock snapped, leaving behind his speed walking and instead full on sprinting down the street. John followed, not even bothering to wait for Claudia. And then Claudia chased them, intent on slapping Sherlock on the backside of his head for how he spoke to her.

"That was rude!" She exclaimed loudly as she caught up running with them.

"What a shame!" Sherlock bit back, as they abruptly turned the corner. They finally neared the hotel, at the very last minute before the doors automatically locked.

Sherlock went first, practically barging through the door as if his life depended on it. He then held the door open for the Watson's. When Claudia was in, it slammed shut and locked behind them.

Claudia glanced at the men and smirked, causing John to chuckle and Sherlock to glower even more than he already had been doing.

"Come on. Room 405." Sherlock ordered.

"Can I help you?" A plump woman with bleach blonde hair and bad makeup asked from the information desk.

"We're just picking up a friend to go out. Can you tell us where room 405 would be?" Claudia asked politely, taking the lead as she knew Sherlock would have been rude and John would have been awkward. Things like this were automatically left to her.

"Yes. Up those stairs there, on the fourth floor. It will be quite near the end of the stairs. For safety reasons, can I just ask the name of the person you're picking up?" The woman asked, ready to type the name into the computer to check they actually were staying there.

"Penny Tate." Claudia smiled. The woman nodded and gestured for them to go ahead.

Sherlock took the steps two at a time, leaving the Watson's behind again. By the time John and Claudia had reached the landing at the top of the stairs, Sherlock was already knocking on the door.

Nobody answered.

"John, help me." Sherlock said, and the two men used their shoulders to knock the door down.

"How lovely and illegal." Claudia hissed.

"She's a murderer. Let's take a teleological approach to this." He ordered, rolling his eyes at her. Inside the room, as Sherlock had thought, there was a young girl sat on her bed, eyes wide, knees up to her chin as she watched the door anxiously.

"Penny Tate, you're under arrest." Sherlock said.

"Are you the police?" Penny asked, eyeing up the fact that none of them were in uniform.

"To some extent, yes." John said, dialling 999 on his phone.

"Now tell me, Penny. Motives?" Sherlock asked.

"How did you find me?" Penny demanded, shaking and moving to her wardrobe. Claudia pushed Sherlock back.

"You didn't exactly make it hard. You had your location on Facebook and booked a hotel under your real name. Now, I'm afraid to tell you that we've got your father, and if you tell us your motives, we'll perhaps spare his life." Claudia bluffed. Penny didn't even know that he was dead, thanks to Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded at her appreciatively. He knocked her foot with his own, as a way of saying 'well done.'

"You've got my dad?" Penny asked, shaking even more. Claudia nodded.

"Motives." Sherlock took over again, his voice a lot more commanding that Claudia's. John walked back into the room after phoning the police. "Actually, hold that thought. Let me." He said, circling her like a tiger about to pounce on his prey.

"Bleach blond hair, very dark fake tan, obvious enhancement surgery. Without being stereotypical, I'd say you've had a job where appearance mattered a lot." Sherlock said. Penny froze. "That's your link with all the people you murdered. You're all linked to the prostitution industry. You used to be a prostitute. But that's not all, is it? You didn't just kill them because of that. Your father said that Daniel was harassing you, Frederic was trying to sell you and Caroline was always threatening you. Threatening you in what way, Miss Tate?" Sherlock asked, still circling her.

"She knew something about me." Penny suddenly began sobbing into her hands. John went to comfort her somewhat, but Claudia held a hand out to stop him, watching Penny's actions carefully.

"You're training to be a surgeon now, aren't you?" Sherlock asked.

"How did you know that?" Penny cried as she turned to get a tissue from the drawer of her night stand.

"The text books." Claudia spoke up, looking at the various study guides scattered around the room.

"You had an intimate knowledge of the heart, especially, because you want to be a heart surgeon." Sherlock said. "A father who knows how to use tranquilliser darts, and a daughter who has an intimate knowledge of the heart. The father knocked the victim out, you stabbed them with a hollow shard of glass so that the blood discontinued to flow around the body. Easy." Sherlock rambled.

Penny was still at her drawer, and John was getting suspicious. He jumped across the bed with ease and looked at what she was doing. With shaky hands, she was loading tranquilliser darts into a gun.

"Sherlock, she's armed!" John exclaimed.

"Armed with shaky hands that wouldn't fire a bullet straight. I wouldn't be too worried." Sherlock noted. "What I am worried about, is what Caroline knew about you. Tell me now or I give the order for your father to be killed." Sherlock said, getting his phone out and waving it at the girl. Penny froze and turned to him.

"She knew who was selling me to men." Penny explained.

"I thought that was Frederic Calder." Claudia frowned. Penny shook her head.

"He _wanted_ to sell me. He'd never owned me. Someone else did. That's why Frederic had to die. I thought he'd take me by force. I didn't want that job anymore, I wanted to have a respectable job." She explained. "So I killed Daniel and Frederic because they wouldn't let me move on." She said.

"I knew that. I knew all of it. Why Caroline?!" Sherlock demanded, his thumb hovering over a button as if he was going to send the message for the father to be killed.

"I told you!" Penny screeched, finally getting the dart gun out of the drawer and aiming it at Sherlock. "Now put the phone down or I shoot." She said.

"I'm not scared of Midazolam." Sherlock smirked. Penny then took a hollow glass shard from behind her back. Claudia paled slightly. She was going to knock them all out and stop their hearts from functioning.

"That's not how this is going to work." Sherlock said, and pressed the button on his phone. Penny shrieked, and shot the gun, causing Sherlock to duck. The little feather plumed dart stuck in the wall where his head had been.

John rushed over to her again and disarmed her in a second. He then aimed the gun at Penny.

"Tell us who your boss was, and why you had to kill Caroline." John ordered.

"I can't!" Penny exclaimed, glancing anxiously outside the window.

"Why?" Claudia asked. "Come here," She offered her arms out, and Penny hugged her tightly, sobbing. "Whisper now, nobody will know and we'll deal with the boss for you." She promised.

"Moriarty." Penny whispered. As soon as those words were out of her mouth, a bullet shot through the window of the hotel room and right into the back of Penny's head, mere inches from Claudia's.

Claudia screamed and let the dead girl fall to the floor. She let out a few shaky breaths, her hands completely shaking without control. She'd been inches from death. Sherlock immediately moved to the window, glancing out into the darkness.

"Moran." He breathed. John wasn't bothered about that, he sat Claudia down on the bed so she wouldn't faint and hurt herself. He then checked on Penny.

"Definitely dead." John said.

"Obviously, Moran has the best shot in the world. That's why Moriarty hired him." Sherlock mumbled.

"That was my fault. I thought they wouldn't know. I thought she'd be safe." Claudia whimpered, steepling her fingers under her chin.

"She was going to die whatever she did. That red light had been focussed on her head since we arrived." Sherlock assured her.

"So she killed Caroline because she knew about Moriarty?" John asked.

"No. She killed Caroline because Moriarty ordered her too." Sherlock corrected. "She killed the other two out of her own choice." He then explained.

At that moment, three armed police officers dashed into the room.

"Freeze!" They yelled. The three of them in the room held their arms up.

"Who rang us?" One asked.

"I did." John said, putting his arms down.

"What happened?" A female officer asked, surprised by the odd contents of the room.

"I need Lestrade." Sherlock paced the room, also lowering his arms.

"Get the ambulance force, get this body out of here. Forensics, take samples of the blood. Someone shot her from outside?" One of the three officers asked.

"Yes. I need Lestrade." Sherlock repeated. John sighed and pulled his phone out, ringing the man.

"Lestrade, it's John. We need you. We've cracked the triple murder case." John explained. "No, we're not at Baker Street. We're in Cardiff." He sighed. "Yeah, I know. An hour? Great." He hung up. "Luckily for you, he wasn't in London. He said it'll take him less than an hour to get here." John told Sherlock.

"Who's Lestrade?" One man asked.

"From Scotland Yard." Sherlock explained. "Now we really can't say anything more until he gets here." He said.

"Why?"

"We're in shock." Claudia choked. "We need blankets. And Lestrade." She explained.

"Moriarty?" Lestrade asked when he got there. Sherlock nodded.

"So this girl, this Penny Tate, had been hired by Moriarty to be a prostitute. When she no longer wanted that job, she found out that Caroline Calder knew who her boss was. Said boss then ordered Caroline's death, and only Penny could do it?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock nodded. "She killed the others for her own convenience." Sherlock explained.

"And when she said his name, Moran shot her?" Lestrade then asked. Sherlock nodded again. "Thanks Sherlock, sometimes you're a bloody God send." He sighed, walking to the Welsh officers.

In the background, Claudia really had a shock blanket, and was staring into space. Sherlock was about to go to her, when John blocked him.

"Just, be gentle. That bullet was mere inches from her head and she's still blaming herself for Penny's death." John said. "Try your best to be nice." He asked. Sherlock nodded.

"Am I anything but nice?" He asked. John snorted.

"Did you want that in a list or in prose?" John asked. Sherlock ignored his friend and continued to go to Claudia.

"You're being... Very brave." He finally managed to say. Claudia didn't look at him, she didn't even acknowledge that he was stood looking down on her. "Claudia." He said. She looked up at him then. "I said you're being brave." He said.

"I heard you." She muttered. Sherlock sighed and sat down next to her in the back of the ambulance. He jilted his arm out slightly, as if considering doing something with it. He then awkwardly let it fall around her shoulder, and he hugged her to him.

"Bet you're not going to miss this when you leave, are you?" He asked her.

"A bit." Claudia admitted.

And their nice moment was ruined by a camera flashing in their face. Claudia winced. Lestrade was taking a picture.

"What are you doing with that?" Sherlock demanded.

"Sending it to Donovan and Anderson, obviously." Lestrade grinned. "They've been wondering about her. Now I can show them the oracular proof."

Sherlock took his arm away from Claudia, causing her to laugh at him.

"Who cares about what they think?" She asked him. He nodded.

"I have to admit that I agree with you there, Claude." He admitted, and put his arm back around her shoulder.

Only a short case for you there, and I hope you liked it! Also, the time is getting nearer and nearer for Claudia to say bye bye to her boys! Aaaahhh.

Glad you've been liking the amount of fluff and also that Sherlock is in a grump because she's leaving. I thought the last part of this chapter was quite endearing.

But I have a feeling that Sherlock's going to be laughed at by Scotland Yard from now on, don't you? From the man who claimed that affection and emotion get in the way...

Anyway, please review & comment and stuff.

-Fay xox


	30. Drunken Mishaps

It was all over the news. Sherlock Holmes does it again, cracks another impossible case. Three murdered people brought to justice, and both the murderers dead. A triumph. And although the police had been told to keep their names out of it, there they were, plastered all over the news. Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and the 'Newbie.'

They didn't yet know her name, but that was all to change when John eventually updated his blog. There was a front page picture, however, of Sherlock and Claudia laughing together. The press had gone to assume that Sherlock and Claudia were an item, which wasn't necessarily true. True, they'd had some romantic situations in the past, but they weren't a couple. No relationship. That was a 'no go' area, a boundary line never to be crossed. In Claudia's opinion anyway. She'd die of embarrassment if she ever had to call Sherlock her 'boyfriend', simply because she couldn't see him in that situation. But just because she couldn't see it didn't mean it wasn't true or wasn't going to happen.

And the news had certainly made something of it. When they returned to Baker Street, they had to battle their way to the door.

"What's your name? Are you with Sherlock Holmes? Are you with John Watson? Are you their new companion? What's your name?!" All the questions were aimed at Claudia. John pushed some of the flashing cameras out of the way as they made their way to the door. Claudia blocked her face with her hand while Sherlock simply turned the collar of his coat up to hide his face somewhat. Sherlock had to kick someone's foot to get it out of the door just so that they could enter the flat, and Claudia was let in first, probably on account of her tremendous blush.

John slammed the door shut, obviously annoyed.

"Bloody paparazzi." He complained, pushing past Sherlock and storming into his living room, Claudia hot on his heels.

"Is that going to happen every time we leave?" Claudia asked, white lights still clouding her vision from the bright flashes of the numerous cameras.

"For us, yes. For you, you've only got three weeks and five days of it." Sherlock said. After his initial victory, he'd turned into a grump again. It didn't help that he was getting texts of people he really didn't want to receive texts from.

_Getting cosy with Miss Watson again, are we? I've seen the picture. Soon there'll be little Sherly's running around, eh? -MH_

_I see Freak's still got his little girlfriend. We've made a bet that she'll have dumped you in less than a month. -Sally_

_Congratulations, Sherlock. Claudia's really nice. I hope you're very happy together. -Molly_

_I guess it's official then. When you've broken it off with her, give me a ring and we'll go to dinner. -IA_

"Are you really writing me into your blog?" Claudia sighed, leaning over her brothers shoulder and watching him type.

"Yes. You actually helped Sherlock without me, so I'm getting a good little paragraph in there about how anything could have happened in that day. Give the press a second Christmas." John smirked, being purposely annoying. Claudia glared at the back of John's head.

"At least let me read what you've put before you okay it." Claudia begged, running a hair through her wild hair.

"Nope." John turned especially to grin at her.

"Just ignore him. Instead of writing that blog he should be spending time with his sister, who'll be gone in three weeks and five days." Sherlock said.

"Why do you keep bringing that up? Yes, I'm leaving. Shouldn't you really be happy that I'll be doing what I love?" Claudia demanded. Sherlock shrugged, causing her to growl."You're just so _irritating_ sometimes." She shouted.

"And what are you then, Little Watson?" He asked, knowing full well she hated that name.

"Leaving." Claudia told him. "And I'd really hoped that you'd be supportive about it like John and Mycroft have been. I'm not going to stay here just because Sherlock Holmes is unhappy about it. Oh, God forbid that Sherlock Holmes is in a mood. Let's not aggravate Sherlock Holmes because he might just never talk to anyone for days on end or revert back to his drug taking. I'm never been careful around you and I never will." Claudia pointed at him angrily with the hairbrush that she had in her hands, before storming off into John's bedroom.

"I've said this before, and I'll say it again, well done Sherlock. You're brilliant with the whole 'friendship' thing, aren't you?" John asked sarcastically.

"I don't know what she's upset about. She's not the one being left behind." Sherlock complained.

"Oh, for God's sake Sherlock. Think about people other than yourself for once. Or, if you're that upset about it, why don't you just move to Manchester with her?" John demanded, once again sarcastically.

"Manchester might actually provide some new crime." Sherlock claimed with raised eyebrows.

"I wasn't being serious, oaf. You're staying in London. But just think of how she feels. She's already told me that she'll miss us both, God knows why she'll be missing you but she will. So grow up." John stressed, snapping his laptop shut and joining Claudia in his bedroom.

"I'm not worried anyway, she'll be back within a month of being there!" Sherlock called into the bedroom, having enough and retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. He put it in his lips and lit in, sucking in to light it. He leaned back, closed his eyes and smoked to his hearts content. Claudia was leaving and there was nobody else to take her place.

"And why do you think that?" Claudia shouted back.

"Did you hear how much you wanted to come with me to find the father? You wanted in on the action, and you still will. Once you get a taste for it, you can't stop." Sherlock promised her.

"You know what? I'm going out." Claudia snapped, having enough of Sherlock's incessant nonsense. She stormed into the living room. "I've had enough with bloody consulting detectives who think my life revolves around them, and I'm sick of constantly watching out for, you know, severed body parts, cameras and weapons that I might accidentally sit on!" Claudia stressed.

"You'd be an idiot to sit on a weapon." Sherlock told her condescendingly. Claudia glared at him.

"I'm going to cash Mycroft's cheque for helping you, and go out with some friends and get absolutely wasted. And there's nothing you can do to stop me." She claimed, waving the cheque at him.

"He gave you a cheque for helping me?" Sherlock demanded, finally opening his eyes. Claudia nodded.

"Helping me with what? Ah. For making me apparently better. From what was wrong with me? I don't think anyone could _help_ me, especially not you. Not that I needed help in the first place. People simply worry about me because of my intellect. Now, do me a favour and shut up, you're lowering my IQ." He claimed.

"I think it's a rather good job I'm fucking off up north, isn't it?" Claudia asked him quietly, watching as he closed his eyes again and took a drag on his cigarette. As she walked past him to take a shower, she plucked it from his mouth, dropped it in an ashtray and twisted it so it went out. Before he even had chance to simply get another from his packet, she reached into his pocket and took the little carton out, grinding it up under her shoe and then dropping it in the bin. He opened his eyes to glare at her. She blew him a kiss and danced into the bathroom, knowing full well that she'd really pissed him off.

She texted a few of her old friends from London, and ones that had moved from up north to London to go to uni. She needed a girls night out and that was what she was going to get.

She ran her shower, as steamy as she liked it, letting the mirrors completely fog over until her face was only a milky pale outline.

She used her nicest products, all vanilla and heart of muguet, with infusions of silk and hemp. She got out of the shower feeling refreshed and totally not bothered by Sherlock's incessant annoying, aggravating and infuriating behaviour. Okay, she was a little bothered about it.

She stormed into John's bedroom, and thankfully he wasn't in it, because she was going to spend the next hour and a half getting ready. She dressed in a short vintage silk number, with lace panels on the back and real Parisian silk worked into the fabric. It was a pearl peach colour, and was very simple. What made it pop was the shoes she wore. Very high, very sparkly. Very kick-Sherlock's-ass-with-how-good-she-looked. She curled her hair, did her makeup and left the bedroom feeling more like a different person. With Mycroft's money in her hand, she didn't even say goodbye to Sherlock.

"Bye John. Don't wait up for me." She made him promise, kissing his cheek before waving goodbye. Before she left, Sherlock looked up at her and John watched with disgust as Sherlock watched her leave like a pervy pervert.

"That's my sister." John snapped.

"I know." Sherlock said, not understanding what he was getting at. Sherlock stood up and walked into his bedroom, and John decided to remain oblivious as to what he was doing. He twitched the curtain open at the window like an anxious brother, wondering how she fared with the camera men outside, who still stood there, resilient and cold. He had to resist the urge to make them cups of tea.

Claudia was very drunk, very quickly and very happy. Well, she was almost very happy. She was getting to that part of being drunk where everything makes you emotional. And what was about to make Claudia emotional was the fact that everyone had seen the picture of her and Sherlock in the news and assumed they were a couple.

"So, you've finally found a keeper, eh?" Chloe asked.

"Not really." Claudia laughed as she finished her sixth drink. "He's a bit of a dick." She admitted.

"But he's all over the news. He solves murders and mysteries. Sounds pretty good to me." Chloe replied. Claudia laughed dryly.

"Well, you haven't met him." She was close to shouting, and she got up to get another drink.

"Hey, you're the girl on the news. The one who solved that crime." A man said. He was young, around two years older than Claudia, and was already buying her a drink. He handed it to her with a smile.

"So go on, what happened?" He asked.

Ten minutes later, they were sat on their own table, Claudia telling him about everything that had happened. The dart in her leg, the girl being shot in the head, all of it. And he was lapping it up. By the time she'd finished – she'd also spent a long time moaning about Sherlock – they'd had another three drinks, and Claudia was verging on paralytic.

"Right. Three in the morning. I think it's time we went to my place, don't you?" Tom, his name was Tom, asked. Claudia shrugged.

"I think I'll just head to my house." She replied, finishing the last bit of her drink. She went to stand up but lost her balance easily and was on the floor, laughing like the drunk idiot she was.

"See, I can't leave you on your own in this state. Besides, your friends have gone. Let's go to mine and have a nice time." He whispered in her ear, and although she really didn't want to, she followed him outside. Deep down, all she wanted to do was go home, to her brother and Sherlock, and drink a lovely cup of tea and watch crappy TV while she slurred in a drunken state and eventually fell asleep. But there she was, getting into a cab with Tom, who she barely knew.

"Wait." She said, stumbling from the seat. "No offence, but I really don't feel in the mood, you know, I've got things going on with other people and it just doesn't feel right." She admitted. Tom laughed and grabbed her arm.

"Oh, that man you've been slagging off for the past two hours? Yeah he sounds great. You know I'm better for you." He said.

"I don't, actually. I don't know who you are." Claudia slurred, almost falling asleep on the spot. "I want to go home." She said.

"You're coming with me." Tom said, getting more aggressive.

"Hey, hey. If the lady wants to go home, then I'm taking her home. I'm not having any of this." The cab driver barked, glaring at Tom.

"Well, I'm paying, so you'll take me where I want you to take me." Tom snapped back.

"I really doubt that she's going with you." A suave and deep voice said from the street. "In fact, if you're not very careful, you won't be going anywhere."

Claudia looked up to find Sherlock, in a stupid disguise that didn't disguise him at all, grasping her wrist and glaring at Tom, who was getting out of the cab and ready to punch Sherlock.

"Oh, for God's sake. I can handle myself. I'm not going with you." She shouted at Tom, but then fell to the ground once more after losing her balance, indicating that really, she couldn't handle herself.

"Come on, Claude. Home time." Sherlock said, coaxing her off the ground and putting an arm around her waist to support her.

"And who the fuck are you taking her home? You could be a stranger." Tom shouted from the cab.

"Sherlock Holmes. Do your research." Sherlock shot back, leading Claudia down the road. The cab driver in the mean time was cheering slightly.

"They're the ones in the paper." He then wolf whistled. They'd turned into the new Prince William and Kate Middleton. Everyone knew about them and everyone wanted them to be together. The genius his romantic companion, the relationship of dreams.

"I'm sorry." Claudia whined as Sherlock practically dragged her down the road. "I wasn't going to go with him, you know I'm not like that." She then said.

"I know." Sherlock said, sounding somewhat bored.

"I'm just really drunk." She then said.

"I know." He repeated.

"But not drunk enough that I don't know how ridiculous you look in that fake beard. What were you doing, spying on me?" She slurred, laughing and tripping over her own words, before pulling on the beard and taking the ginger thing off of him.

"You could say that." He allowed.

"See. You can be sweet when you want to be." Claudia cooed, squidging his cheeks together just before she tripped over again. "Ow!" She yelled.

"Oh, come on. You've been shot at, you've been in fights and you've been poisoned. I highly doubt that that hurt you." Sherlock said.

"I can't walk." Claudia cried, looking at her now scraped knee, which had a teeny tiny amount of blood on it. She was being a _tad_ over-dramatic. Sherlock sighed, before bending down and picking her up, bridal style.

"I'm just going to go to sleep." She told him, patting his cheek gently.

"Okay, Claude." Sherlock said, as if talking to a child.

"I don't to go to Manchester, but I have to." She then told him.

"I know." He finally admitted.

"And you know what? Only with you could I find spying on me endearing. If anyone else did that I'd kill them." She grinned. Sherlock smiled.

"I know." He repeated.

"Okay, shush now." She slurred, slapping his mouth numerous times so he would be quiet. She then rested her head on his infamous coat, and waited for him to take her home.

"Sherlock." She murmured, half asleep. In fact, more asleep than awake. "I think I feel something close to love for you. And the reason I don't say love is because I know you'll get scared and remind me about it in the morning. So yeah, definitely close to love."

"I'll remind you of that in the morning." He smirked. "And I don't think it would scare me. Just please don't expect me to say it back. It's not that I don't feel it, and it's not that I do. I might suddenly feel it one day, and I can imagine that I will. But not now, it's too soon. For me." Sherlock said, really wishing that some things were him were as simple as they were with others.

"Don't worry about it." She told him, and patted his face for the third time. "Everything's fine." She dragged out the last word but they both knew it wasn't true.

**Unfortunately, the story is nearing it's end. FOR EVER. Only joking. Or am I?**

**Well, anyway, no more cases for now. From now until the end of the story it's going to be kind of Claudia saying goodbye to her boys! And her birthday party, of course. And trying to cope with Sherlock. **

**And you're going to have to convince me to do a sequel, because otherwise I think I'd rather like an ending with Claudia in Manchester.;-) I know I'm evil.**

**-Fay xox**


	31. The Dress

Claudia's head was pounding when she woke up the same morning. Well, early afternoon. She sat up, wincing at the light streaming through the opened window. And then she realised that she was in Sherlock's bed. She frowned and kicked the sheets away from her body, standing up rather shakily. Her head pounded with each step she took from the bedroom to the living room, where that _man_ was pacing the room with his purple shirt sleeves rolled up and two nicotine patches stuck to him. His fingers were steepled under his chin.

"You took advantage of me." Claudia accused, still frowning against the harsh light billowing around, dust like, in the room.

"In what way?" He asked, not pausing in his pacing, nothing of his body moving an inch except his legs and mouth.

"I woke up in your bed." She reminded him.

"Obviously." He smirked.

"Don't smirk at me, Mr Holmes, because _you_ took advantage of _me._" She warned, pointing at him.

"Look at yourself. Fully clothed. Not a hair out of place. I did not take advantage of you, Claudia." Sherlock promised. A loud guffaw came from the direction of the couch, and someone was sat there that Claudia hadn't even noticed.

"Sherlock wouldn't know how to take advantage." Mycroft smirked, sipping delicately at the cup of tea Mrs Hudson had made him minutes before.

"Shut up, Mycroft." John sighed. He'd been sitting next to Mycroft, and Claudia hadn't noticed him either. Claudia blushed. She hadn't realised she had an audience.

"Why is everyone being serious?" She asked, groaning as she sat down, her eyes bleary and her head hurting.

"An allegation has been made against Sherlock. Of him taking advantage of you." Mycroft told her. Claudia frowned.

"What?" She asked, somewhat confused.

"A young man, a Mr Tom Geller, has accused Sherlock of abusing you, and it's only hours before it hits the news. We need to stop it hitting the news. What did you tell Mr Geller last night, Claudia?" Mycroft asked gently, but with a dangerous tone lurking in his voice.

"Nothing." Claudia insisted, but truthfully, she couldn't even remember. "I don't think I said anything."

"Well you must've said something." Sherlock snapped, finally stopping his pacing and staring at her. "You need to tell the press the truth as soon as the story gets out. I can't have you damaging my name more than you already have done." He snapped.

"This isn't my fault! The only reason he's doing this is because I refused to go home with him!" Claudia exclaimed. "And the only reason he's accusing you is because you're the man who took me away from him."

"Ah, so that's where you went last night." John smirked, sipping his tea, enjoying himself despite the seriousness of the situation. Mycroft was also smirking, an eyebrow raised as he glanced, amused, at John.

"John, dear, I do think Sherlock is in love. A lovesick teenager, perhaps?" Mycroft asked, and John sniggered into his cup. Sherlock and Claudia both glared at the both of them.

"Nice. Mature." Claudia hissed, as John had done so many times before to Sherlock. "It's not that serious, is it? I just call someone up and tell them it's not true, and that he lied. Stop panicking." She rubbed Sherlock's arm comfortingly, only causing Mycroft's smile to widen.

"I'll ring mother later, Sherly. Tell her to buy a new hat." Mycroft winked at his little brother.

"A new hat?" John asked.

"For the wedding." Mycroft nodded matter-of-factly.

"I would never marry him." Claudia insisted, pointing at Sherlock who frowned at her.

"Why wouldn't you marry me? What's so bad about the thought of marrying me?" He demanded. John choked on his tea. Sherlock was actually considering marrying his little sister?

"Oh, stop John. Don't be buying a suit just yet, I have no intention of marrying Claudia either." Sherlock huffed.

"Well what's wrong with marrying me?!" Claudia exclaimed. Sherlock ignored her and tutted.

"Right, sorry to have to break up this domestic, but I really have to escort Claudia to the police." Mycroft said, finishing his tea and standing up, grabbing his umbrella and motioning for her to follow him.

"I'm not going with you now. Have you seen the state of me?" Claudia demanded, causing Sherlock to snigger. She slapped his arm. "Just give me ten minutes, I'll get ready." She said. Mycroft sighed but sat back down, as Claudia danced to the bathroom.

Just as John had gotten over the urge to laugh at Sherlock's confused face, the man himself glanced at John, causing him to snigger once more.

"You're children." Sherlock hissed, storming into his bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

"Ah, but we're the children." Mycroft said sarcastically.

"I know it's not true, that's what I've been trying to tell the press." Lestrade exclaimed, eyes wide as he looked at Mycroft and Claudia stood in front of him. Mycroft with his hands clasped on his umbrella in front of him and Claudia obviously feeling awkward with her arms folded.

"He said Sherlock Holmes abducted you and forced you to go with him. Is that true?" Donovan asked from the doorway, smirking.

"Go away Sally, I said I'd call you if I _needed_ you." Lestrade snarled, and Donovan shrugged and left to them.

"I know it's not true." Lestrade said again.

"I was very drunk, and that Tom guy was trying to force me to go home with him. Sherlock actually saved me." Claudia explained.

"Thanks, Claudia. I'll issue that as the official statement." Lestrade nodded, picking the phone up a second after it started to ring.

"No! It's not true. I've just had a report from Claudia Watson herself. Sherlock Holmes did not abduct her!" Lestrade roared.

"I think that's our cue to go dear. Now, I just need to get a super-injunction for you, don't I? The press won't be allowed to mention anything about it or take photo's of you." Mycroft explained, smirking down at her.

"I think that would be good." Claudia nodded, sighing. She waited as Mycroft went to the side and dialled a number.

"Anthea, get me an appointment with my lawyer. Make sure to bring my cheque book." Mycroft ordered, and Claudia allowed herself to drift off.

It seemed a lot more people cared about Sherlock than he thought. He had Lestrade in on his day off just to clear his name. He had his brother getting super-injunctions for him and making sure his reputation wasn't damaged. And Claudia knew that Tom Geller would be having a severe talking to by the older Holmes brother for 'telling lies'.

"Mycroft?" Claudia called suddenly, deciding to do something proactive before she became complacent with thoughts of Sherlock. And if she became complacent, she'd never ever leave.

"Yes, my dear?" He asked, holding his hand over the speaker of his phone.

"Would you mind dropping me off at somewhere that sells books?" Claudia asked. Mycroft nodded and returned to his phone call with 'Anthea'.

Claudia had gotten a list up of all the text books she'd need for her next term on her phone, and she was currently thumbing through the thousands on offer. She already had four rather large books in one arm, and she needed seven more. Mycroft was waiting outside in the car, able to see her through the window and was quite bemused by the way she looked for books. Instead of just handing the list to one of the shop assistants so that they could get them in less than a minute, she'd been looking for ten minutes.

Five minutes later she came out armed with her intellectual necessities.

"Are you quite done?" Mycroft asked, amused still. Claudia nodded, grinning.

_1 week 2 days later_

Claudia walked in from the shop where she'd had to buy John more jam. It had been an unusual request, quite out of blue, especially when compared to the fact that he already had a jar in the fridge. But he'd simply insisted that she go and get it and so she had done.

She frowned when she noticed the light turned off in the apartment. She flicked it on and jumped with surprise.

"Surprise!" Forty voices all yelled. Claudia laughed shakily and pressed a hand to her head, trying to calm down her escalated heart rate.

"It's not my birthday for two days!" She exclaimed, grinning manically at her friends gathered in the rather small looking living room.

"That's why it's a surprise." John grinned, hugging his sister.

"Very good logic." Claudia ruffled his hair. And then she had to greet her friends, all of whom had swarmed around her, petting her hair and hugging her.

"Happy birthday in two days!" Came exclamations and squeals. Claudia ignored them and looked for the one person she actually cared about seeing.

Mycroft was there, Lestrade was there, even Donovan had made an appearance for some odd reason that Claudia wouldn't understand. And there he was. Sherlock Holmes. Sat in his usual seat, plucking away at his violin, not even with a smile on his face.

"Wait a minute." She smiled at her friends before bounding over to him and sitting down. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing." He told her, without looking up.

"Yes there is. Are you still pissed off because I'm leaving?" She sighed. "I thought we'd gotten over this." She hissed. "I won't replace you or anything, you know." She assured him.

"Come on." He said, standing up and offering her his hand. She took it and followed him to John's bedroom. "Of course you will." He told her, handing her a small bag from the bed. He smiled awkwardly and falsely at her and left her to it, shutting John's door behind him.

Claudia looked in the bag to find a dress. A 50's style dress, with netting underneath to make it poof out. And it was a vintage rose colour, and went just above the knee. And she absolutely loved it. She laughed, knowing that Sherlock couldn't have picked it himself, and got undressed. She then slipped it on, only to realise that she needed someone to zip it up for her. She opened the door and stuck her head out. "Sherlock." She hissed. He looked up and she beckoned for him to go to her.

He did so, and she let him in.

"I need you to do the zip for me." She said, turning around and holding her hair back. Sherlock's voice for some reason didn't seem to work, and he was a little bit choked up. Maybe it was the fact that she was wearing something he'd picked out and bought for her, maybe it was because she did look rather pretty in it. Well, forget pretty. Beautiful. He jerked the zip on the dress up, before doing the little button up at the top two.

"I see you're still wearing the necklace." Sherlock said, briefly touching the chain around her neck.

"Obviously." Claudia smirked, turning around. "Thank you, I love it." She said, brushing the silky dress with a grin on her face. She twirled around in it, letting the fabric billow out around her. He smiled briefly, the thought of the fact that by the following week she'd be gone.

"Don't go." He asked, and for the first time in his life, he'd seemed vulnerable. She paused and her smile fell.

"Don't do this. Not now. We're supposed to be happy. Birthday party. Woo!" She said with mock enthusiasm. Sherlock nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"John's bought you a cake. You're going to be sung to." Sherlock smirked.

"For God's sake." Claudia sighed, scrunching her face up with mock terror. "Right, come on, Mr Holmes. Time to be sociable. Time to introduce you to my friends." She said, and he frowned at that thought, but went with her anyway, both of their arms linked together.

"Love the dress, Claude." One friend grinned, and it had started. "Who's this?" She asked, gesturing to Sherlock.

"Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective." Sherlock introduced, glancing around the room.

"Right." The friend replied, walking away. Claudia laughed.

"Well done. I can't stand her." Claudia nudged him, and Sherlock smirked. He'd deduced that by the way Claudia had been stood, tense and alert. That's exactly why he'd driven her away.

_Half an hour later_

"_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Claudia, happy birthday to you." _The large group of people all sang, while Claudia furiously blushed. Her eyes were on Sherlock's the whole time, and he was simply watching her from the corner of the room, arms crossed, smirking. She smiled too, despite really wanting to hit his smug face.

She blew the candles out, wishing for something spectacular.

**I know nothing really happens in this chapter, but yeah, I'm thinking only two chapters left of Surviving Claudia guys! This was really just a filler chapter. Hope you enjoyed!**

**-Fay xox**


	32. Unofficial Goodbyes

_Five days left_

Claudia's best friend, Carla, had finally managed to make her birthday party after being in an awful meeting all day. She'd gone home, got changed, grabbed Claude's present and had quickly gotten on the tube. She left at the exit that would take her to Baker Street and walked the rest of the way, considering it was only a ten minute walk and a very sunny day. She double checked her phone to make sure she was going to the right apartment. John Watson was a lovely man, and her impression of him had only increased when he'd thought to invite her to Claudia's surprise party.

_221B Baker Street, hope you can make it. -John Watson.' _

She most definitely was making it, and so when she knocked on the door of 221B Baker Street and a straight faced tall man with curly black hair and the most amazing cheek bones answered the door, she was somewhat taken aback. It wasn't John, and he most certainly wasn't Claudia, unless she'd had a sex change and some form of cheek bone surgery.

"I'm here for the party?" She seemed to ask, holding up the present in her arms with a grin.

"You're late." The man quipped, holding the door wide for her to walk in and then slammed it shut behind them both.

"Up here?" Carla asked, gesturing to the stairs. Sherlock nodded and the two of them walked into the apartment.

"Carla!" Claudia squealed rather drunkly as she walked into the room, and the two girls crashed into each others arms.

"Careful! Your present is... Delicate." Carla croaked. The girls hadn't seen each other in about three months. Partly because of Carla's busy job and also because Claudia had _met a guy. _

"Ah, put it there." She staggered slightly and gestured to the couch. "And then I can hug you properly!" She exclaimed.

The curly haired man rolled his eyes and stood with folded arms. "Love the dress, Claude." Carla said, looking at the 50's style satin pink prom dress.

"Sherlock got it for me." Claudia hiccuped as the two of them half hugged and half danced to the music.

"Who's Sherlock?" Carla asked. "Your new fella?" She winked.

"Nah! It's him." Claudia said, pointing to Sherlock who was stood glaring at the both of them. Carla frowned at Sherlock, who in turn, frowned at her.

"Waaaait." Carla dragged out the word. "I recognise him. A police man or something? Well known? Holmes! Sherlock Holmes!" She exclaimed, pointing at him.

"The very same." He told her, eyeing up Claudia still.

"You look like you want to eat her. Should I leave you two to it for a second? Yeah, I'll find John." She said as the look from Sherlock became more intense.

Carla ran off, not wanting to get in the middle of a lovers tiff.

"I didn't mean to!" Claudia whined, quite a lot more drunk than Carla first anticipated. She hid behind a potted plant in order to listen to them, and accidentally bumped into someone doing the exact same thing.

"John?" She asked, faintly recognising him after the many years she hadn't seen him.

"Carla?" He grinned, "Nice to see you made it." He told her.

"Are you spying on them too?" Carla asked innocently, turning her attention back to the pair.

"Oh, yeah. She accidentally broke his violin." John explained.

"So, what's the big deal?" Carla whispered.

"Until you get to know Sherlock Holmes, you wouldn't understand." John explained. "I'll give you time to talk to him later, and then you'll realise why he's making such a big deal out of it. It's kind of his thing." He explained quietly. They both then shut up to listen to the argument unfolding.

"It doesn't matter if you meant to damage a prized possession of mine or not, but you did. You're intolerable when you're drunk! And, come to think of it, sober too. When are you leaving again?" He demanded, staring down at the shorter girl as he towered over her.

"If I'm intolerable, then what the bloody hell are you?" Claudia demanded, a tear suddenly rolling down her cheek and falling onto the silk of the dress he bought her. "Oh." She cried as the tear marked the dress. Sherlock visibly changed when she began to cry, both John and Carla noticed, his whole stance and posture changed. He deflated a little, and making her cry obviously hadn't been his intention.

"Why are you crying?" Sherlock asked, sighing slightly.

"You're making it really hard for me to leave. You know, you're being spiteful. I don't want to leave on bad terms with you, Sherlock. You know, ever since Mycroft told you I was leaving, we've not been the same. Do you think I'm abandoning you or something?" She demanded, more tears falling.

Sherlock didn't answer, he simply picked his cracked violin up and threw it back onto the couch, obviously not knowing what to say or do. He put a hand to his mouth as he began pacing, even doing the old classic of running a hand through his hair.

"You're the first girl I've... And you're just... I don't understand why you want to leave.. I thought... I thought.. I thought you were happy." He admitted his feelings at last, and Claudia's heart just wanted to break in two at the helplessness of his voice.

Carla wanted to cry herself. John wanted to throw up.

They both watched as Claudia flung her arms around Sherlock, and as he awkwardly hugged her back, his pained eyes still open as Claudia gently swayed rather drunkly with him to the music.

"This song makes her cry." Both John and Carla said at the same time. They looked at each other and smiled sadly. Both of them cared more about Claudia than they cared to admit.

"We're in the final hour of a party that most people have left, which is known as the period in which couples get off with each other, and we're hiding behind a potted plant." John smirked, flicking one of the leaves from his face.

"Are you suggesting that you want to get off with me?" Carla asked. John blushed and looked to the ground.

"No... Not that. No.." He stammered, and Carla sniggered.

"God, I'm just joking." She prodded his cheek. "Were you always this... Awkward around women? I mean, I've known you practically all of my life and never noticed that before." She smirked.

"Awkward around women? Me? Oh, definitely." John admitted.

_Three days left_

Claudia awoke on her birthday morning to a rather heavy bundle falling onto her sleeping form. She cracked an eye open and was happy to find herself in Sherlock's bed, a bed she was sorely going to miss when she left in three days. The bundle that had fallen onto her was actually a myriad of wrapped and flat squares. Sherlock was standing over her with his distinct straight face, seemingly waiting for her to open them.

"Good morning to you too." She said, happily aware that he was actually wearing pyjamas. He sat at the end of the bed and watched her. "Sherlock, you already got me a present. That dress is beautiful." She scolded him, but he simply frowned at her.

"Then count this as a leaving present. Just..." He scolded, watching as she sat up. Claudia took the top square, of which there was about twenty, and unwrapped it. A record. A true, real life, fifty year old record of the Beatles. She grinned and looked at him. He was watching her facial expression. She continued to open all of the records to find all of her favourite albums in vinyl, which was a much better quality and something she'd wanted for about ten years, since being a fourteen year old really into music. It included the Hollies, the Rolling Stones and Elvis, as well as a bunch of other oldies.

"Oh, Sherlock. This must've cost you a fortune." She sighed. Old vinyl is not only very hard to get hold of, but also very expensive. Especially with some of the signed ones he'd managed to get his hands on.

"Doesn't matter." He assured her, leaning in and swiftly kissing her, knocking her off guard because initiating kisses was usually her job. It was brief, but displayed all of his complex emotions. He leaned back, his eyes crinkling as he saw her happy but somewhat shocked facial expression.

"Thank you, Sherlock." She told him, petting and stroking her new treasures.

"John!" Sherlock suddenly exclaimed, and a minute later John ran into the bedroom with a heavy looking present balanced precariously in his arms. He handed it to her, and she smirked at her brother before ripping into the present. She knew exactly what it was. A real life, 1960's record player, in top condition, used a lot but barely marked. The sign of a good record player.

"John!" She exclaimed happily. "Thank you." She kissed his cheek and hugged him. "Oh, I'm gonna miss you both." She sighed unhappily, but her frown was quickly changed when she looked back at her new gifts. It was perfect. More than what she'd wanted. "Ah, but the sound quality of this thing! And these.. The grooves are thick, see." She held out one record delicately so they could see. "A much deeper sound with a lot more quality. Harder to carry around but it's bloody worth it." She sighed dreamily, and both men watched her, amused, as she caressed her presents.

"Right. I'll get ready and then we'll go and do something, yeah?" She asked the men, and they both nodded and left the room for her.

"How have you not killed her yet? It's been two days. How is she still alive?" John hissed as they both left her to it.

"What?" Sherlock frowned.

"Your violin is still smashed, if you remember. If I'd have broken it, I would be in my grave right now." John lectured. Sherlock shrugged.

"You're not Claudia." He informed him, and that told John everything he hadn't wanted to hear. The consulting detective was bloody _enamoured_ with his little sister and didn't even know it.

As they waited for her, they heard a grainy noise coming from Sherlock's room. That grainy sound then Herb Alpert's voice began to croon from the record player. A minute or so later, Claudia had obviously reached her favourite part and turned the volume up so they could hear exactly what the man was singing.

_'My hands are shaking, don't let my heart keep breaking, cause I need your love. I want your love.'_

_The final night_

Claudia and Sherlock were both led in bed in separate rooms, Claudia opting for John's bed and Sherlock in his own (actually attempting to sleep for once.) Neither of them could sleep, both of them were simply staring at the ceiling. She had music softly playing on her record player, which she hadn't left alone since she'd got it. The words were making her sad and she decided not to spend her final night on her own, and padded out of John's bedroom and into the living room.

Upon hearing the door of John's room opening and the light footsteps of Claudia stepping out, Sherlock's heart skipped a beat, something that had never happened to him before.

He could hear a woman's voice singing- '_Don't you see that now you've gone, and I'm left here on my own, that I'd have to follow you, and beg you to come home...'_

Sherlock smirked at the fitting words that fit his and Claudia's odd lifestyle, and as he contemplated that thought, his own bedroom door opened and he immediately pretended to be sleeping. He heard _her_ tip toe in, cursing gently as she almost walked into his wardrobe. She then slid into the bed next to him and simply watched him.

"Stop staring at me." He ordered her, and she started to laugh. It reminded her of previous times. All the times he'd told her to stop staring, and the one time she'd managed to say it to him. It was like their catch phrase to one another. That or 'Shut up,' which was also one of their favourites to hurl at the other.

"I thought you were asleep." She finally whispered. He didn't say anything. She glanced over his head at his clock and saw that it had just turned four in the morning. "I leave in nine hours." She told him. He opened his eyes and watched her.

"I simply refuse to waste those hours." He said, and he pulled her under the covers with him.

_One hour left_

"I see you've come to terms with it. Her leaving." John said as they watched Claudia drag a large suitcase out of John's room and to the door of the apartment. Sherlock nodded tightly as she then skipped her way into his room. She was there for about a minute when she came out with a few pieces of clothing she'd left in there...

John pretended not to notice. That way, it wasn't real.

And, he thought, at least he didn't have to put up with dreary violin playing at three in the morning, because his wonderful sister had broken that bloody violin. Carla had turned up in the last hour to say goodbye to an old friend and to help with a few things. She was travelling to Manchester with her to help her unpack and sort her things out. She wasn't living in halls, but instead, in a shared house with five others twenty four year olds. It would be very different, to say the least.

When Claudia had finished double checking all of the rooms for her things, it finally hit her that she'd be leaving in about ten minutes in order to catch the train at the right time. She turned to the men with a hurt look on her face.

"Oh my God." She said, and hugged them both, her eyes closed as she said goodbye. She wasn't sure why she was so upset, London was only a few hours away from Manchester. Maybe it was the fact that she'd miss her brother like Hell, and she'd miss Sherlock maybe even more- if possible.

She'd also miss Mrs Hudson, who'd bustled her way into the room at the sound of packing.

"Oh, love!" The older woman exclaimed, taking Claudia from the men and hugging her tightly. "I'll miss you, my dear. I'll miss having another woman around." She admitted, a small tear in her eye. At the sight of Mrs Hudson crying, Claudia also had a few tears of her own to shed.

"Oh, God." She complained, laughing and wiping them away. "I'll miss you too." She managed to say.

She then turned to her brother, who she hugged tightly, and John was sure that her nails would leave imprints on his shoulder from where she'd clung to him. "I love you." She squeaked.

"I love you too." John told her, his voice breaking, causing her to laugh at him. He glared at her to shut up. She ruffled his hair and he ruffled hers.

She turned to Sherlock, about to hug him goodbye too, but he dragged her from the living room outside, into the street by her hand.

"What are you doing?" She asked, tucking her hair behind her ear as they stopped just outside.

"It's hot in there, don't you think?" He was panicking. She nodded. "Don't leave. Just, go to university here. What do you want, Claude? I'll do it. I don't know... We could get married. Do you want to get married? Let's do that. Will you marry me?" He asked, his agitation apparent.

"You can actually see yourself getting married?" She asked, smirking despite the way his words tore at her heart. He 'harrumphed' in a frustrated tone.

"I'm being serious. If it means you stay, then there's no other possible or plausible action to take. I don't know, you...You clear my mind. If you won't stay simply because of me, then stay because you help me solve crime. Think of all the victims of crime that could be helped because you clear my mind." He suggested, eyeing her up.

"Oh, I'll miss your odd thinking." She crooned, finally hugging him and burying her face into his neck.

"What if I said it?" He asked her, speaking into her neck so his words were muffled.

"Said what?" She asked.

"Claudia." He pulled her away from him and looked into her eyes, holding her by the shoulders. "I love you." He managed to say, and looked at her as if she was an experiment, trying to gauge a reaction. If it produced a good reaction, he could use those words to his advantage later- when she was mad at him for something. The only thing it did was make a tear fall down her face.

"I love you too." She croaked, stepping away and running back into the house. Sherlock's hope was lifted, but then the rest of the group followed her back downstairs to where her cab was waiting. They each carried something, and put them in the boot of the cab. Carla waved goodbye to John and got in the cab, waiting for Claudia.

Claudia herself had a funny feeling in her stomach, like butterflies but much, much worse.

She looked like she was about to say something, but she stopped herself. She saluted the three people stood helplessly in front of her, and she got into the cab. It drove away before they had chance to wave.

_**Awfully sorry for that. My heart twinged as I was writing it, not sure what it's doing to you as you read it. Powerful stuff, eh? I hope so, anyway.**_

_**And, how are we all coping at the news of Matt Smith leaving? *Whovian hug***_

_**One more chapter and that concludes Surviving Claudia. And I suppose, as you are all wonderfully brilliant and always leave the ****best**** reviews and such, that I'll write you a sequel ****and the first chapter will be out shortly after this story concludes.**_

_**As for the song mentions- I can't help it. I love 1960's music. I suppose that's the only thing from me that rubbed off on Claudia. She's a 60's girl too. **_

_**The songs mentioned are- **_

_**1. This Guys in Love With You by Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass**_

_**2. You Don't Have to Say You Love Me by Dusty Springfield.**_

_**Listen to them if you want to, they're rather nice. **_

_**Love as always, Fay xox**_

_**PS- thinking of writing a Mycroft fiction. You know, romance and joy and the occasional murder. What are your thoughts? Something you'd be interested in or would it be a waste of time?**_


	33. A Beach, a Letter and a Pot of Earl Grey

"He's taking it much worse than me, and I'm her brother. He won't eat or sleep, and he's acting like she's dead." John ranted over a coffee to Mycroft, who was listening intently with an eyebrow raised.

"He's pining for her?" He asked, stirring his tea with an ornate tea spoon that he'd brought with him. Those rogue coffee shops and their lack of decent cutlery... "Well, that's new." He quipped, smirking slightly as he sipped his Earl Grey.

"It's like he's bereaved." John leaned forwards. "And those things she left him made him worse."

"What things did she give him?" Mycroft enquired.

_Three days previously_

The boys and Mrs Hudson all walked back inside rather rigidly, it felt odd with her gone. Sherlock immediately went into his bedroom and slammed his door shut behind him. Whatever he'd said to Claudia outside had upset him. John went to knock on the door to see if he was okay.

"Just come in if you want to." Sherlock had snapped before John had even made a sound. John frowned and went into his bedroom, where Sherlock was staring at two items on his bed.

One was what looked like a ticket, and the other was a violin- exactly the same as his previous one. In fact, she'd had it repaired.

"What's that ticket thing?" John asked gently.

"A train ticket. An annual pass to Manchester." Sherlock explained. "She's left one in your bedroom too." He explained.

"How do you know?" John asked, watching Sherlock's face carefully and trying to gauge his reaction.

"The ticket is one of three. She got one for me, one for you and one for herself." Sherlock said.

"So we can go to Manchester and back whenever we want, for free?" John asked, and Sherlock nodded.

"I won't use it." He insisted, placing his own ticket on his bedside cabinet. He then looked at his violin intently, holding it up to the light and plucking the strings. "She's had it completely fixed and renovated, tuned it properly, restrung it." He breathed, feeling it's weight. He nodded with appreciation and took it with him as he stormed into the living room, pushing past John as he did so.

_Three days later_

"He will use it." Mycroft nodded. "Only once." He added, eyeing John carefully. "He'll be fine. Tell him I send my regards. And tell him to eat- he'll feel better. If he continues to refuse, warn him that I'll move in and play mother." He told John, finishing his tea and standing up, his umbrella hooked on his arm despite the fact that it was a rather warm and sunny August day. "Continue to keep me updated, and I'll continue to pay for coffees for you." He waved shortly and walked away, his Jaguar pulling up as soon as he wanted it to.

John shook his head and swiftly finished his coffee.

Claudia was sharing her house with the same people that she had been the year before, well before she moved in with 'Matt' and consequently ended up leaving for the safety of her brother.

She often wondered what Moriarty would have done to her if she'd have stayed with him. He'd probably have killed her. And for that, she had Sherlock and John to thank her. They'd made him go away.

"Claude, you can't keep sulking because you're back. You're supposed to enjoy university!" Poppy crooned in her ear on her third morning back in the house. "We've got a month until lectures start again, so why don't we go out and enjoy the sun?" She asked, opening Claudia's bedroom curtains open and causing dusty light to stream in on Claudia's sleeping form in her bed.

"I was sleeping, Poppy." Claudia chided, shielding her eyes against the harsh light.

"I know you've been living it up in London, appearing as front page news and stuff. But you're back now, so you might as well enjoy it. Come on, I'll give you an hour to get ready and then we're all going out somewhere." Poppy warned, pulling the sheets from Claudia's body and dumping them on the floor. She then left her to it.

Claudia groaned and got out of bed, her head hurting as it had been doing for the past few days. She had a shower, did her makeup and put her hair up into a ponytail. It took her half an hour, and then she dressed in a half sleeved black and white stripy top with high waisted shorts. She padded out into their shared kitchen and went to make herself some tea.

"Iced tea in the fridge, Claudia." Will told her, switching the kettle off for her with a smirk.

"Thanks." Claudia muttered. It was far too hot to be drinking tea. She reached into the fridge and half expected to see a severed head or arm or a jar of fingers. However it was clean, and boring, and only contained food stuff. She pulled out the bottle and poured herself some, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes and walking into their living room.

The people she shared with were all of her best friends. The only person that wasn't there was Carla, who she'd known since she was a child but had opted for London instead of Manchester like Claudia did.

The group included Poppy, Will, Josie, Robert and Jen. They all did modern history, and they all enjoyed the summer.

"Where are we going then?" Jen called, in her strong Scottish accent. "We have _got_ to stop Claudia from being so moody." She teased, winking at the brunette. Claudia smirked and shook her head.

"I just want to sunbathe." She said.

"Me too." Josie called, sticking her hand up as she walked into the room in only a towel. How she'd missed this odd bunch of people. She missed Sherlock more, though. If he was there with her right then, what would he think, Claudia wondered.

Poppy- Big headed. Will- gay. Josie- Sincere. Robert- A fighter. Jen- Intelligent.

He'd do that snap judgement in less than a minute. Claudia smiled as they all bickered over where to go and who'd be driving.

"Where does Claudia want to go?" Will interrupted, leaning on the couch behind her head and ruffling her hair, reminding her sorely of John.

_London_, she wanted to say. But what popped out of her mouth was different. "A beach." She said. The girls nodded, as did Will. Robert sighed and grabbed his car keys.

"I'll drive. Come on. It'll be about forty minutes to the nearest beach." He warned. "Get drinks, Claude." He motioned for the kitchen. She bounded over to the kitchen and grabbed bottles of Coke and Pepsi and iced tea and water. She also went into her bedroom and grabbed some beach wear.

Would Sherlock ever be happy spending a day at the beach...? She wondered as she walked outside and dumped everything in Robert's small car that would only just fit them all in due to the extra two seats that pulled down in the boot. No, he wouldn't, she thought. Far too mundane. Could he even swim? Maybe he couldn't swim. That thought made her smile and she leaned on the car, content in her thoughts.

Three days ago, Sherlock had gone into his bedroom and found the _things_ that Claudia had left for him. The train pass and his violin. And he'd also scrunched up a note from her that she'd left on top, and he hadn't even gotten round to reading it. Initially, he'd scrunched it up so that John couldn't read it when he walked in. But now, he thought he was avoiding reading it because it would bring his feelings back.

Nonetheless, as he wandered outside and leaned on their wall, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on him as he wondered what Claude was doing, he uncrumpled it and began to read it.

_Sherlock,_

_Don't worry, this isn't a love letter declaring my adoration of you, so don't feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to say here's your violin, exactly the same one, but you already know that don't you? Sorry for breaking it._

_Also, I've left you a ticket train pass thing, so if you ever want to come and visit me on a whim, you can do. I've got one too, for when I want to come to London. I've also given John one, but you already knew that too, didn't you?_

_I'm sorry for leaving you, but I know you understand why. This is my future, and this is my future happiness too. When I finish my degree, I can go and study for my doctorate at a university in London and live with you again, if you want me too. But for now, I **have** to stay at Manchester. I couldn't possibly leave now._

_And just so you know, I'm not going to run away with another man to Hawaii or anything. You're the only one for me, Sherly._

_I hope a nice mass murder comes up for you, so you're not bored. _

_-CW. X_

He smiled at her collection of thoughts. As opposed to what he'd originally believed about the letter she'd left, it actually made him feel better. One year. He could handle that. And then she'd be back. He truly believed he could cope.

**There we go then, the end of Surviving Claudia. I know that's not the ending a lot of you were hoping for, but trust me, I've got a wee plan in my head.**

**I'd like to say a huuuuuge thank you to everyone who has read and commented on my story, and promoted it and been far too kind to me. Big hugs and kisses to you all. **

**The sequel will be out shortly, and you'll get to see whether Sherlock manages to cope like he actually says he will. Also, will Claudia manage to do well with her degree or not? If she does, she moves back to London. If she doesn't, she stays in Manchester...**

**AND John Watson with a girlfriend? Who'd have thought it, eh? **

**Another thank you to everyone, especially those who comment on absolutely every chapter I've written! You know who you are, and I read absolutely every review and greatly appreciate them. **

**Love as ever, Fay xox**


	34. Sequel

As promised, I'm writing a sequel. The first chapter is out now and the fanfiction is called- The Languorous Year.

A sequel to Surviving Claudia! Find it on my profile. Sherlock has three problems in his life. The first- Claudia living almost four hours away from him. The second- a pair of obsessive stalkers watching his every move. And finally- John has found a girlfriend. Sherlock must learn the heart-ache that is love. A story of romance, imminent danger and the sound of wedding bells...


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